


Survival of the Fittest

by WillowRavenBloodstone



Series: Survival of the Fittest [1]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, M/M, Male Slash, On Hiatus, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-01-07 19:49:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 91,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowRavenBloodstone/pseuds/WillowRavenBloodstone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Courier Six of the Mojave Express took two to the head, she decided it was a good idea to chase after the man that did it and demand blood in return. Getting to that point isn't so easy, especially when your sniper companion stops to shoot anything that remotely looks red and you run into a man who claims to be your older brother. Did I mention he has a witty Followers doctor with him, who seems to view your survival as some kind of miracle? Oh, not to mention the fact that the political situation of the Mojave was about to descend into all out war between the New California Republic and Caesar's Legion, both of which seem to have taken a shine to you. </p><p>Some canon divergence, but will still keep to the main plot points of Fallout New Vegas and beyond.</p><p>On hiatus until further notice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my attempt at Fallout New Vegas Fanfiction! My summary of the work isn't the best, but I'm hoping as time goes on, I'll be able to tweak it to better suit the story contained within. 
> 
> You should be aware that this work is unbeta-ed, so any mistakes are mine, but I have tried to find as many as I could.

There was little sound coming from her room in the suite. The occasional metal pieces clicking together, a stiff brush scraping inside the barrel of a rifle, or the sound of something moving against carpet as Six adjusted her position on the floor. She was methodically cleaning her guns, first her pistols, the weathered 10mm she carried with her almost always, the silenced .22 holdout she kept for the Strip’s casinos, and her .357 she used when she wanted to be intimidating. Next came her assault carbine, a fairly common companion on her travels when she needed some good mid-range firepower. Last came the biggest of her weapons, the anti-materiel rifle she had coveted since she first spotted it at the Gun Runner’s shop. When she could finally afford the hefty price, she purchased it and almost more ammo than she could carry. It took her the longest to clean, although whether it was because it was the largest or because it was her favorite, no one ever figured out.

It was almost time. Time to take the fight to them, to make them pay for every family broken, every mother captured and enslaved, every child killed, every brother murdered. And there was no doubt in Six’s mind as to who would come with her on this suicide mission.

In the other rooms, activity could be heard. Lily was in the kitchen, cooking something for her grandchildren. No one ever complained, as the food was mostly good and always edible. Raul kept her company, the two of them getting along better than anyone would have expected, although Six figured it was because they were similar in both age and situation, although Raul did seem to still be playing with a full deck of cards.

Outside the door, ED-E hovered quietly, although no one ever did know what the eyebot did in its spare time. Six adored the thing and had cleaned and polished the metal to a gleaming finish every time they returned from an adventure, and had done so just yesterday. It waited patiently for Six to call on it again. 

In the spare room, Veronica and Arcade could be heard, although their discussion wasn't clear to Six. It was likely they were keeping quiet, as Cass tended to sleep after returning from whatever bar she felt like going to that particular day. To Six’s knowledge, Cass had been at the Atomic Wrangler today and was sleeping off the undoubtedly immense amount of alcohol she consumed. 

Rex entered Six’s room just as she finished cleaning her anti-materiel rifle and moved to lay down at her side, resting his head on his paws. Six glanced over at the cyberdog and studied the bull painted on his side for a moment. Rex lifted his head and looked at her and then pulled her out of her thoughts with a soft bark. She patted the dog briefly, who wagged his tail happily, and then turned back to her rifle and began to reassemble it. 

As she finished putting the rifle out, she called to her last companion. While she waited for him to arrive, she loaded rounds into a magazine for the rifle, eight large .50 MG rounds. She knew she wouldn't hear him as he approached from wherever he was in the suite, but still she managed to look up just as he appeared in the doorway. She loaded the magazine into the rifle and set it across her lap.

“Is it time?” Boone asked, his own rifle slung across his back, ready for action. She met his eyes behind the sunglasses he wore and nodded.

“It’s time.”


	2. One For My Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Courier Six's quest to find the man who shot her isn't going all that well. However, she did find a friend, although she'd use that term loosely.

_"From where you're kneeling, it must seem like an 18 carat run of bad luck. But the truth is... the game was rigged from the start."_

Courier Six’s eyes shot open and her fingers scrambled for her gun before she was fully conscious. The weatherbeaten 10mm pistol cool in her grasp, she took a few deep breaths to settle herself. The only sound around her was the quietness of the desert at night. Her fire had gone out ages ago, leaving just a few coals smouldering, their orange glow the only thing besides the half-moon above giving her light. She was alone.

And having nightmares. Well, she supposed that was only to be expected. Surviving a gunshot wound to the head wasn’t something people commonly experienced, so there was no telling what side effects would occur, besides the ones that had already been apparent. Nightmares and amnesia, the latter which would likely never go away entirely, according to Doc Mitchell. Sure, she remembered some things, probably the important ones, like how to read and write, how to shoot a gun (which was something she was apparently quite good at, come to find out), and how to speak English, but she had forgotten other things. Like her name, who she was. All she knew was what was on her paperwork. Courier number six, to deliver the platinum poker chip to Mr House on the New Vegas Strip.

Well, that was one job that wasn’t going to be completed anytime soon. Some asshole in a checkered coat had decided to brain her and run off with it. She didn’t know why, as that small amount of platinum couldn’t be worth all that much. She supposed she’d find out when she caught up to the crappily-dressed bastard (checkered coat, really?). If she ever did.

Sighing, Six reached over and tried to bring life back to her fire, stoking it and adding a few pieces of tinder to it. The Mojave was almost unbearable during the day, but at night, it was another kind of unbearable. Turns out, she didn’t like cold all that much. The armored vault jumpsuit she had was good cover during the day, shielding most of her skin from the harsh rays of the sun, but at night, it did nothing to keep her warm. The light blanket she had pilfered from some old house did a little, but with a fire, she’d warm right back up. Checking the time on her Pip-Boy, she discovered morning was just over the horizon, so it was time to get some breakfast made so she could travel and hopefully find some shelter to wait out the harshest point of the day.

She was currently camped out in a raided farmstead after clearing the area of Vipers who had claimed it for their own. Honestly, she would have just moved on and found another place to rest, (possibly going back up to Wolfhorn Ranch) had they not started shooting at her. They had, and it was apparently second nature to her, because she drew her pistol and fired until her pistol was empty and six raiders were dead. She didn’t even have to think. It was a bit scary, but she didn’t want to dwell too much on it. She was tired, so she pulled the bodies away, after pocketing anything useful they had on them, and set up camp as the sun set.

Her plan for the day was to try and make it to Novac, a little settlement north of her position if the map markers on her Pip-Boy were anything to go by. If she got moving soon, she’d make it there in good time. She pulled some food out of her pack, grimacing at the pink, congealed mass of Cram that was in the can she opened. She’d love something that wasn’t pre-war, but she wasn’t likely to find a fresh brahmin steak out here in the middle of nowhere, so she dealt with it, mixing it in some Mac and Cheese she also had in her pack. It wasn’t bad, and by the time she was done with breakfast, the sun had come up. Time to move on.

She kicked sand over the fire to smother it and shouldered her pack. Her plan was to follow the road up to Novac, as according to her map, it’d make it quick and easy, even though it made her more of a target. She seemed to be quick on her feet though (she was a courier, after all) and hopefully she could avoid too much trouble.

Travelling during the early morning was easily the best time of day to travel. The air was still cool, and occasionally there were a few critters out and about for her to pick off and grab something for later. Geckos weren’t her preferred meal, but it was better than 200 year old canned...meat. There wasn’t anything out this morning, and a more superstitious person would see this as an omen, but Six continued on, glad to be making good time.

A few hours passed as she walked, singing along happily to the songs on New Vegas radio (somehow she knew the words to most of them) and not caring if there was anyone around to hear how horribly off-key she was.

“You saw me standing alone, without a dream in my heart…” She trailed off as she spotted movement in her peripheral vision. Her hand immediately went to the pistol at her waist as she turned to get a better look. Crimson. Shit. Dealing with Caesar’s Legion was not high on her to-do list today, and she doubted she even had the firepower to handle the five of them. Sure, she had put the Vipers down no problem, but they were drugged up and probably half crazy to begin with. The Legionaries were just crazy. And better armored. They were closer than she liked, but they hadn’t noticed her yet, so maybe she could just hurry off.

Almost as one, the five of them turned towards her. Of course she couldn’t get lucky. She had to have the shittiest luck in New Vegas, and if she got out of this, she’d never press her luck gambling, because she sure as hell wasn’t going to win. Well, they wanted a fight, but she wasn’t about to let them take her as a slave. She’d put another bullet in her brain first, and hope that creepy securitron named Victor would drag her back to the doctor again.

Drawing her pistol and wishing she had the foresight to have her varmint rifle holstered instead of secured in her pack, she took aim. Best to drop as many as she could before they got too close. She dropped two before they got close enough to her that she had to start ducking their machetes. A third one went down when she ducked under his ambitious swing and pressed her gun to his chin and pulled the trigger.

Six went down feeling like a boulder had landed on her when one of the remaining two Legionaries tackled her to the ground, screaming something about profligates and whores. She assumed that was her and pushed him off her after slamming her knee up and hitting something particularly delicate on a man, judging by his rather high pitched scream. Thankfully, she managed to keep her grip on her pistol and finding the other Legionary charging them, she pulled the trigger until it was empty. The other one wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, so she quickly reloaded and dealt with him too.

She laid there on the road for a moment, breathing in deep lungfuls of air, her heart hammering away in her chest. An almost-hysterical laugh bubbled out of her as she marveled over her survival. NCR troopers didn’t manage this half the time, and somehow she did. Quickly she sobered though, as she began to ponder her past again. What kind of skills did she have that allowed her to survive this? Who was she?

“Way to go, brain. Ruin the moment.” Six muttered, pushing herself up and looking at the bodies around her. Well, at the very least, she’d have a few things to sell and get herself some new gear, as one of them managed to get at least a glancing blow on her. With her adrenaline spiked during the fight, she didn’t feel the pain of it, but now she felt the ooze of blood dripping down her back from a shallow slice on her shoulder. Pain flared as she acknowledged the wound, and she sighed. She wasn't going to make it to Novac with it like that, so she rooted around in her pack until she found her only stimpack and injected it into her thigh. It’d allow the wound to clot and begin to stitch itself up, and hopefully there was a doc in Novac that could take a look at it for her.

Quickly picking through the dead bodies for anything useful, Six made her way to Novac, this time keeping a closer eye on the roads. She didn’t want to deal with another raiding party. Or even a bloatfly, for that matter. It was still early in the day, but now all she wanted to do was get her wound patched up and rest.

Seeing the dinosaur that marked the little settlement of Novac was a relief. Glancing up she noticed that there was someone sitting in the mouth of the dinosaur with a rifle. Not a bad little sniper perch, good for protecting the town from whatever wandered in, although there was a massive blind spot behind the dinosaur. She wondered how they figured that part out.

There were a few others wandering around the town, and Six walked (staggered might have been a more appropriate term, her shoulder was now on fire and she was insanely thirsty but her canteen had been empty for the past two hours and she hadn’t come across any water sources) towards the town feeling fatigue hit her like a ton of bricks.

“Hey, are you alright?” A voice came down from the mouth of the dinosaur as she approached and she looked up to see a man in a red beret peeking over the side. She felt like she should know the red beret from somewhere, but right now all she wanted was to sit down, drink two thirds of the whiskey bottle she had stashed in her pack, and wait for this to heal. Another stimpack, a few bandages, and she’d be right as rain. Even better would be a doctor and some stitches, as she wasn’t a fan of the side effects that came from stimpack use, but she’d take what she’d get.

“I think I’ll live. You wouldn’t happen to have a doctor around here, would you?” She called back, stopping just below him. “Or maybe someone who sells medical supplies.”  
  
“Uh...there’s Doctor Strauss, but you’d be better off with a bottle of whiskey and trying to stitch it up yourself. Geckos catch you?” That wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear. If the residents of this town didn’t trust the doctor, she wasn’t about to.

  
“Ran into some Legionaries this morning. One of them got a bit lucky.” She replied, really wishing she could sit down.   
  
“Hey, Jeannie! Come over here for a sec!” The man in the dinosaur called, and unable to stand it anymore, she let her pack slip off her shoulders and drop to the ground with a groan. She sat down in the middle of the street, pulling her bag across her lap and looking for the bottle of purified water she knew was in there somewhere.

“Oh! You look exhausted! Come on, lets get you out of the sun.” An older woman said, coming outside of the gated area, followed by a man wearing what looked like Ranger armor. Later, laying in bed, she’d wonder why she knew what a Ranger was doing out here.  For now, she allowed herself to be lifted off the ground and brought into the lobby of the Dino Dee-lite motel. The couch she sank into was lovely, but she leaned forward, not wanting to lean back and bloody up the furniture.

The woman was talking, but she was only half listening. It seemed like she was talking to the Ranger anyhow, a man named Andy. “....good thing that we have Manny and Craig, but I’m not sure how long Craig is going to stick around. He’s still torn up over his wife, poor thing.”

“Legion’s getting bolder, and I don’t like it. I don’t think Craig would up and leave us though, not without a good reason. He’s got a protection streak a mile wide.” Andy replied, and Six only gave them her full attention when a cup of water was pressed into her hands.

“Here you go. Drink this, it’s a hot one out today.” Jeannie said, and Six sighed gratefully when she drained the cup. It wasn’t anywhere near cold, but it was still a relief. She hadn’t noticed at the time, but she was moving quickly to get to Novac, quicker than she should have with an injury. She’d love to rest, and then she could make her next move. The whole reason why she was here was that that scumbag who shot her had moved through here, or at least that’s what she was told. She could find out.

“Thanks so much. I wasn’t expecting the Legion, but I probably should have. Um, there isn’t a room free, by chance? I’d love to wash up and get some rest. And if anyone could let me know where I could get some stimpacks or at least some Med-X, I’d appreciate it too.” Six said, passing the cup back to Jeannie. If there wasn’t, she’d deal with it. She had a feeling that before she was shot in the head, she spent a lot of time outdoors.

“Of course. Got a room all ready for you. A hundred caps and it’s yours.” Jeannie said, and Six looked around for her pack. Andy had brought it in for her and set it down next to her. Inside, there was a hidden pocket where Six kept a small sum of caps. Counting out the amount she needed, she passed them over to the woman and stood, doing her best to ignore her body protesting the movement.

“Cliff Briscoe, over in the gift shop, might have a few stimpacks for you.” Andy told her as she tugged her pack onto her uninjured shoulder. She’d go find him after she put her things down. And maybe got a bath.

Jeannie gave Six the room key, and without any other delays, Six made her way up to the motel room. It was small, but at least she had a bathroom with water. Her pack abandoned on the floor by the bed, she went into the bathroom and ran the water. It’d hurt, but keeping the wound clean would be a good thing, and she wanted to wash the dust off before she slept in a bed.

The stimpack she injected earlier had done a lot in healing it, but there was still a long way to go before it was fully healed, and it’d definitely leave a scar. She was able to get a look at it in the dirty mirror over the sink, and she sighed. Well, she wasn’t planning on entering any beauty contests. Tugging her brown hair free of the knot it was in, she stepped into the tub and began to wash herself. This was a luxury, she knew, and didn’t mind when she couldn’t get a bath for a few days on the road, but for now, she allowed herself to be pleased once she crawled out of the tub and saw clean skin.

Wrapped in a towel that was dingy with age, she dropped onto the bed to relax a moment, trying to plan her next move. The mattress was more comfortable than the rock and dirt she slept on last night, and before she realized it, she had dozed off.

She woke a few hours later, momentarily disoriented. Then her wound gave a helpful stab of pain, and she remembered where she was. She stretched and sat up, looking towards the window. The light filtering through the curtains told her that the sun was setting outside, and she wondered if she could get anything done today.

Well, she wasn’t going to get anything done naked. She hopped off the bed and went to her pack to fish out the clothing she had, a simple red dress and white apron. It had a satchel too, but she didn’t wear it, as her pack gave her all the storage she needed. The dress would suit until she could stitch up the slash in her vault suit. Or until someone else could, as she wasn’t sure if she could sew.

She tugged on her boots and tied up her hair to keep it out of the way. And then she yawned, still tired. It seemed like she still wasn’t 100% after being shot in the head, which was annoying, but she’d deal. She’d go see if the gift shop was still open, buy a few supplies, and then go back to bed. She wanted to be at the top of her game when she met up with the asshole that shot her.

Outside, the air was still warm, but as the sun sank towards the horizon, the heat of the desert was tempered by the chill night air approaching. It’ll be good to have a place indoors to sleep tonight. The people of Novac moved about, completing their last errands for the day before retreating inside. It was almost peaceful, and for a second, Six allowed herself to imagine what it’d be like to live in a small community like this.

Approaching the dinosaur that held the gift shop, the man in the beret that she saw earlier came out of the door, a rifle slung over his back. He smiled when he saw her, dropping off the platform in front of the door and walking towards her.

“Hey, it’s good to see you up and moving around. You looked pretty peaked earlier. I take it you got some rest?” He said, and she shrugged. She could have slept a bit longer, but she had some things to take care of.

“Yeah, and I’ll probably find a stimpack or two and sleep through the night too. Running is exhausting, I have no ideas why I decided being a courier was a good idea.” It was one of those things she wished she could remember. It was probably one of those things she wouldn’t remember, given her luck lately.

“Is that what brought you to Novac? A package to deliver?” The sniper asked. She wished it was that simple.

“No, actually. I’m looking for the guy who shot me. Couple of people in Primm told me to check this way, heard he was coming through here. All I know is he wears a checkered coat.” She replied and saw a brief flicker of recognition. So he had passed through here.

“Yeah, he might have. I could tell you a bit more, but you have to do something for me first.” He told her. She scowled. Of course.

“No, not what you’re thinking. Listen, Novac is home for me. I’d like to keep it safe, but I can’t leave my post during the day, and I need to get my rest at night. Up there at the REPCONN test facility, there are a bunch of ghouls that come down and bother the town. Take care of them for me, and I can tell you more about your friend.” He hastened to add, obviously realizing where her thoughts were taking her.

Well. Ghouls were easier to deal with than fending off unwanted advances from a guy with a gun. She could handle that easy enough. It wasn’t like she hadn’t dealt with enough trouble in Primm. In fact, ghouls were probably easier.

“Yeah, I’ll see what I can do about it. Not tonight, I’m gonna rest up. But first light, I’ll head up there and take a look.” She decided and he smiled in relief. They parted ways and she headed into the shop, hoping the owner hadn’t decided to close up. Thankfully he hadn’t, and she bought a couple of stimpacks and sold some of the other junk she had accumulated throughout her short trip. Cliff Briscoe was a nice man, and they chatted for a little while about the shop and the dinosaur.

As she turned to leave, intending to go find something to eat, the door opened and another person entered. At first, she thought it was the sniper from before, and then she turned to get a better look. It was a different man, but they wore the same beret and had similar rifles, although his scope looked a hell of a lot better than the other’s did.

“Evening, Boone.” Cliff said, but the man was silent, giving Six a long stare before moving up to the post at the top of the building.

“Oh, don’t mind him too much. He hasn’t been the same since his wife disappeared, and I can’t say I blame him. He’s taking it pretty hard, but he’s young.” It seems like this wasn’t quite the peaceful town she thought it was a few minutes ago. Sighing to herself, she thanked Cliff for his time and made her way up the stairs to talk to the other sniper.

She opened the door and he whirled around, his rifle forgotten and his hand going to the sheathe for the machete strapped to his waist. When he saw it was just her, he dropped his hand and glared.   
  
“Goddammit. Don’t sneak up on me like that. What do you want?” Boone demanded. Six glanced between his face and his hands before answering, making sure he still wasn’t going to pull the thing out and decapitate her. She didn’t think Doc Mitchell could fix that.

“Was I supposed to knock? Sorry. I was just looking around.” She lifted her hands, partly in apology and partly to show she was unarmed.

“Nothing to see up here.”He turned away from her, picking up his rifle again and putting his eye to the scope to scan the horizon. Night was falling quickly, and she wasn’t quite sure how he could see, but the moon was bright tonight, so he’d have a few hours of good light to see by.

“There’s a sniper. And a hell of a view.” Six remarked, looking past the sniper out at the wasteland.

“I think you should go.” He said to her and she sighed. Grumpy bastard. She turned to leave.

“No, wait. You just arrived in town. Maybe you shouldn’t go. Not yet.” He spoke up as she reached for the doorknob. Looking back around to face him, she wondered what he wanted her help with. Maybe to find his wife?

“Mixed signals will get you nowhere, my friend.” Six said and watched as the moody sniper rolled his eyes. She really should learn when the appropriate time was for humor.

“I need someone I can trust. You’re a stranger. It’s a start.” He looked like he was considering something now. She wondered why he could only trust strangers, and then her mind began to work too.

“What do you need?” She asked, hoping she didn’t sound sarcastic or anything. It was likely that he wanted to find his wife, and while she wasn’t all that great at tracking, she was doing a good job at following the other bastard’s trail. Finding someone who stole a woman couldn’t be too hard, could it?

“This town, no one looks me in the eye anymore. I want you to find something for me. I don’t know if there’s anything to find, but i need someone to try. My wife was taken from our home by Legion slavers one night while I was on watch. They knew when to come and what route to take, and they only took Carla. Someone set it up. I don’t know who.”  
  
“But you want me to find out. Or am I looking for your wife?” Six asked. She could do both if she had to. He sounded really broken up over it. Although less sad, more angry. She’d be too, in his shoes.

“My wife’s dead. I want the son of a bitch who sold her.” He spit out harshly and she couldn’t help but flinch. She didn’t question him though. He clearly knew. The Legion didn’t treat women kindly, and he knew his wife better than anyone else would. Maybe she’d take her own life rather than live as a slave? Or would she get herself killed while a slave? Six knew that her smart mouth would more than likely make her life very short if captured by the Legion.

“What’s the plan then?”

* * *

 

A few hours later, Six brought Jeannie May Crawford out in front of the dinosaur. She had begun investigating immediately, picking up on the intense emotions the sniper was projecting. She started to feel angry at the loss too, as if she had known the woman. It upset her, so she resolved to find the bastard quickly. No one was above suspicion, it seemed, so she started searching the places that were empty for the night, like the lobby of the motel. Turns out, she didn’t have to search far, as the safe behind the counter held a bill of sale for one Carla Boone and an unborn child. Six could barely keep a lid on her rage. How dare she sell someone? She didn’t care why it was done, she just knew that the old bitch had to pay.

Getting the woman out of bed with a tale of an emergency in front of the dinosaur was easy. The darkness hid the red beret that Six held, ready to put it on as soon as they were in range.

“What’s out here? It’s late, can it wait until tomorrow?” Jeannie asked and Six grinned viciously and placed the beret on her head.

Jeannie’s own head exploded, and the light wind blew a mist of blood onto Six’s face. She didn’t mind. The bitch was dead now, and Carla could rest easy in whatever afterlife she believed in.

Six made her way up to Boone, who was leaning over the mouth of the dinosaur, staring down at the body.

“How did you know?” He asked once she closed the door behind her. Six fished out the bill of sale out of her pocket and passed it to the sniper.

“I found this. I’m sorry.” Six said simply, and waited for him to speak again.

“Huh. Would be like them to keep paperwork.” He studied it and then folded it neatly and slid it into his pocket. Undoubtedly he wanted to find the other two names on the paper and kill them too, and Six decided then that she would help.

“What will you do now?”

“I don’t know. There’s nothing left for me here. Maybe I’ll wander, like you.” He slung the rifle over his back.

“You’ve got no reason to, but how about you come with me? I could use a good gun to watch my back. I’d really like to not get shot in the head again.” Or get sliced up by Legionaries, or chewed on by a gecko in the middle of the night.

“You don’t want that.” There was a momentary stab of annoyance when he said that. Who was he to tell her what she wanted? She let it go though, it wasn’t worth arguing over.

“I thought snipers worked in teams.”

“Yeah. When you’re on your own, you’re a lot less effective. I’ve been there and paid for it. But this isn’t going to end well. Come on, lets get out of here.” He said and Six smiled at him.

“I have a feeling it’ll end better than you think. Lets go. Since you’re abandoning your post, let’s go take care of those ghouls at REPCONN before I take you away from here and make things easier for your other sniper friend.” She had wanted to rest before, but with the adrenaline from the kill (that wasn’t even hers) she didn’t think she could. They could rest once the ghouls were taken care of, and then get on the road.

Having someone travel the wasteland with her made her feel better about her chances at finding the checkered coat wearing bastard. Maybe she wasn’t so unlucky after all.

 


	3. Doctor, Doctor

“You’re getting to be a regular sight around here, Mickey.”  

Mickey had to agree. It wasn’t his fault though,  people  didn’t seem to like when he kicked their ass at caravan, so they kicked his ass literally. Or, they tried to. He was usually pretty good at  defending himself, but sometimes his opponent got lucky. Or, like tonight, they had a whole lot less to drink than he had accounted for.

“I know. It’s the only place around that’ll patch me up this late. Julie awake?” Mickey said to the guard sitting by the front gate, ignoring the pain from his split lip. His broken collarbone was the bigger issue.

“Nah, she went to bed hours ago. Was up for almost 40 hours helping a woman in labor. I think most of the doctors are out. Arcade might still be up though.” The man pulled himself from his chair and looked Mickey over again. Mickey grinned and hoped he looked charming, but it was hard to look charming when your eye was swelling shut and your lip was trickling blood down your shirt.

Mickey had a half formed thought about trying to hit on the guard, and then thought better of it. Sure, he was part of the Followers, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t take offense if he was straight and start swinging. Deciding to hold his tongue, he followed the guard into the camp quietly. He hadn’t ever met this other doctor, but Julie spoke highly of him on the few times she was feeling chatty while patching him up after one of his many brawls.

“Hey, Arcade, you’re the only one up. Got somebody for you.” The guard led Mickey into the tent, and Mickey got a first glance at the doctor that he had heard plenty about.

And he kept looking. Easy on the eyes there, Doctor Arcade.

“What happened to you? Nevermind, I’m not sure I really want to know.” Arcade stood from his chair, abandoning his books and papers to examine his patient. Mickey allowed himself to be guided into a chair, letting his eyes wander over the handsome doctor as he did so.

“I...ah, got into a disagreement with a fellow over a card game.” He supplied helpfully anyways, grinning again as Arcade shook his head. Wasn’t much for bedside manner, it seemed, as he fussed about, cleaning the cut over his eye where his opponent had caught him with a ring, closing the wound with a few small adhesive strips. It’d scar, but Mickey wasn’t a stranger to scars.

A damp cloth was pressed to his lip, which instantly began to burn. Mickey flinched and hissed in pain, but a strong hand closed over his uninjured shoulder and pressed him into the chair. In any other situation, Mickey would appreciate what was happening, but right now, his lip was on fire and his collarbone protested the rough treatment.

“Hold still please.” Arcade said with a hint of annoyance, dabbing at his lip. Mickey stared up at the doctor with equal annoyance.

“What the hell is on that thing, acid?” Mickey asked as soon as the cloth was removed. Arcade rolled his eyes and set the blooded cloth aside, opening a metal box and removing some supplies.

“Alcohol. I’m disinfecting it before I stitch it closed. I’d rather not waste the stimpack when older methods will do. I’ll also need the stimpack later when I deal with your broken collarbone.” A needle was sterilized with some of the aforementioned alcohol, and Mickey kept still and quiet while Arcade neatly put four stitches into his lip.

"How do you know about the collarbone?” Mickey asked when the doctor was done, and Arcade just gave him a look, like it should have been obvious. Mickey looked down, and he supposed that it was only a process of elimination at the way he was cradling his arm.

“Please. I’m a doctor. Wait here, I don’t have any Med-X in here.”  Arcade swept out of the tent (there really wasn’t any other way to describe it, with the coat and all) and Mickey relaxed into the chair, listening to the radio.

Johnny Guitar ended, and Mr. New Vegas began to launch into the news. This late at night, it was bound to be a repeat of earlier news, but since he hadn’t had much of an opportunity, any news would be new to him.

_You're listening to Radio New Vegas, your little jukebox in the Mojave Wasteland. I'm Mr. New Vegas, and I'm here for you.If you like news, then you're gonna love our next segment. A package courier found shot in the head near Goodsprings has reportedly regained consciousness, and has made a full recovery. Now that is a delivery service you can count on._

Mickey bolted up from his chair and was moving out of the tent before he had even fully registered the news. His first conscious thought was that he was overreacting. It couldn’t possibly be Caroline. Sure, her last package would take her through that area, and she had the world’s worst luck, but how many couriers were there? Still, he had to find out. His pain was forgotten.

Or it was, until someone snagged his wrist and jerked him to a halt.

“Where do you think you’re going? I’m not done yet.” Arcade had his wrist in a viselike grip, and Mickey regretted that he’d likely have to punch the doctor to get free. The man had determination written all over his face.

“ Caroline. My sister. I have to find her.” Mickey tugged on his arm, but Arcade wasn’t budging.

“What makes this a priority now? Five minutes ago you didn’t seem concerned.” Arcade flexed his fingers around the wrist, and Mickey wondered how pissed Julie would be when her favorite doctor had a black eye in the morning. Probably wouldn’t patch him up after his brawls anymore.

“News story on the radio. Package courier shot in the head? I’d bet every last cap I had that it’s her. I need to find her, so I’d appreciate it if you’d let me go so I can get to Goodsprings.” Mickey liked this guy, he really did. Well, he liked his looks.

“You’re not going to make it to Goodsprings with the amount of pain you’ll be in once the alcohol in your system wears off. Plus, judging by your breathing, the bruised ribs will slow you down. The radio report said she had recovered, so if it is your sister, I’m sure she’s fine. Let me finish, and you can be on your way in the morning.” Arcade was insistently pulling on Mickey’s arm, and while Mickey was by no means a small man, Arcade had at least six inches on him, broad shoulders and strong hands that seemed used to manhandling people.

“I can’t-” Mickey grunted in pain when Arcade tugged him harder, pulling him back towards the tent. Stubbornly, Mickey planted his feet on the ground, and then regretted his decision when pain flared up again.

“Half an hour and you’ll be ready to run off on an ill-advised trip through the desert.” Mickey stopped struggling then. The rational part of his brain, the part that was mostly clear, was insistent that Caroline was fine. She was a tough kid, and for her to be ‘fully recovered’ had to mean a doctor somewhere gave her a clean bill of health. Still, he’d like to see for himself, so he’d go by the Mojave Express office in Primm and see what she was up to now. It was a big brother’s job to check up on her, isn’t it?

“Half an hour. Any longer than that and if you want to treat me, you’ll have to follow me.” Mickey said, and Arcade offered a satisfied smile. MIckey allowed himself to be led back into the tent again and sat into the chair.

“I’m going to need you to take off your shirt so I can get a look at the bruising.” Arcade asked, setting a syringe aside that Mickey recognized as Med-X. Mickey sighed wearily, knowing this would hurt. Still, he couldn’t resist a remark. Mickey, in the end, was a smartass. 

“I could disrobe completely for a more thorough examination, doctor.” Mickey grinned rakishly up at the handsome blonde, and was surprised to see a smirk turn up the corners of the doctor’s lips.

“If I wasn’t about to inject you with large quantities of possibly mind-altering medications, I might possibly take you up on that offer. Shirt off, please.” Arcade turned his blue eyes towards Mickey, who was busy trying to pick his jaw up off the floor. Those blue eyes rolled in their sockets and reached for the hem of Mickey’s bloody shirt. Mickey composed himself and managed to get his shirt off mostly by himself.

Dark purple bruises littered his torso, uglier over his left collarbone and down his left side. Booted feet weren’t meant to connect with the softer parts of human anatomy, and he was thankful that the men he played cards with had the unspoken rule about no crotch shots.

“They really did a number on you, didn’t they?” Arcade muttered and Mickey had to bite back a giggle when the doctor traced his fingers down his ribs. He wasn’t ticklish, he insisted, the other man’s hands were just cold.

Carefully, Arcade injected the Med-X and Mickey felt a comfortable numbness settling over his body. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to travel like this, but he’d figure something out. He’d had enough training, he should be able to push through this. But as his eyes drooped, he realized he wouldn’t be able to.

“Tricked me, you bastard.” Mickey slurred, barely feeling it as his ribs were bandaged tightly. There wasn’t much Arcade could do about the broken collarbone except inject the stimpack into Mickey’s upper left arm and let the chems do their work knitting the bones back together.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard that. Come on. An hour of rest will do you good.” Mickey was lifted from the chair and guided to a cot set up at the other end of the tent. Dimly Mickey realized that this had to be Arcade’s personal tent.

“No...Caroline…”Mickey fell onto the cot, face pressed into the pillow. If he wasn’t so loopy thanks to the Med-X, it would have been painful. His legs dangled off the end and carefully Arcade pulled them onto the mattress. He was attempting to roll onto his back when he felt hands moving across it.

“When you’re conscious again, I fully intend to ask you about these.” Arcade said and Mickey drifted into unconsciousness, wondering what the cute doctor was talking about.

* * *

 

Mickey came back to himself with his collarbone throbbing. It wasn’t as painful as it could have been, so that meant the stimpack was doing its job. He wondered how long he had been out. It was still dark, he noticed, as he looked out the open tent door. However the light was on at the desk, and the blonde doctor from earlier sat at his desk, pen scratching on paper and he wrote notes. Or something. Mickey didn’t know. He pushed himself into a sitting position carefully and tested his range of motion on his injured side carefully.

“Drink the water on the bedside table. All of it, if you can, but slowly. One of the unfortunate side effects of stimpack use is dehydration.” Arcade ordered, not looking up from his work. Mickey stared at the man for a moment before deciding that sassing one’s doctor was never a good idea. He found the cup and sipped at it, the water soothing his parched throat and dry mouth.

“Thanks for patching me up, Doc. I really should get going though.” Mickey said after he finished the cup of water. He could drink more at his place while he packed up. Caroline was a capable kid, but he had to be sure.

“Not until I clear you.” Arcade turned to look at him then, setting his pen down on the desk. Mickey stood up anyway, fighting the dizziness he knew the doctor was looking for.

“I gave you half an hour. Took more than that.” Mickey looked around for his shirt. It was folded neatly at the foot of the cot. It’d stain since he didn’t have time to scrub it out. He tugged it on quickly as he could.

“Only because you fell asleep.”

“Only because you drugged me.”

The two men stared at each other for a long moment and then Arcade shrugged. Mickey smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring the twinge of pain from his collarbone.

“If you wanted me in bed, Doctor, all you had to do was ask.” Mickey patted his pockets to make sure his winnings were still in there (three dozen caps, a hundred NCR dollars and two Legion Denarii) and moved towards the tent flap.

“I’m serious about the second examination, you know.” Arcade followed Mickey as he made his way across the Follower’s camp and towards the exit. Mickey laughed and kept moving.

“And I’m serious about you having to follow me. She’s a kid. Only family I have left. I have to make sure she’s alright.” Mickey opened the gate and the doctor paused. Mickey kept walking. Either he’d follow Mickey and he’d have a companion for the journey, or he wouldn’t and he’d have to take the journey alone. It was a two day trip, as he’d have to go the long way around to avoid the deathclaws that moved in around the quarry at Sloan, but he was quick on his feet. Both he and Caroline were, which was why she chose to be a courier. Well, part of the reason.

“Oh for the love of...give me five minutes.” Arcade said, and Mickey stopped and turned around.

“Five minutes, and then I’m gone.” Mickey looked at his watch pointedly and chuckled when the doctor disappeared into the camp again. Four and a half minutes later, a flushed Arcade appeared again with a small pack on his back and a plasma pistol at his hip.

“I can hardly let you make this trip alone in your state. Lets go, I’m sure you have things to pack yourself.” Arcade insisted and the two continued on.

“Isn’t Julie going to be a bit pissed when her favorite doctor disappears on her?” Mickey asked, navigating the streets of Freeside in the light of the moon overhead and the glow from the Strip behind them.

“I left her a note.” Arcade said simply, his long strides easily keeping up with Mickey’s hurried pace. It didn’t take them long to get to Mickey’s place, a tiny apartment that was really just two rooms, one of them the bathroom. It was plenty for him though. It used to be Caroline’s before she gave it to him. As a courier, she wasn’t ever home much.

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll love that.” Mickey replied sarcastically, digging for his key when they reached his place. It didn’t take him long to shove supplies into a pack and gather his own weapon, a nine millimeter pistol, and they were on their way again with his watch telling him it was just past five AM.

“You’re my patient and therefore my responsibility. Plus, Julie told me I was going to deliver the next baby, and since there are about four women just ready to pop, I thought I’d get out of there while I still could. I’ll go back, apologize, and get stuck in my tent with research again.” Arcade said, adjusting his glasses on his face.

“Miracle of life isn’t all that pretty, is it? I got to be around when Caroline was born. Saw more of my mother that day than I ever needed to see. Has to be one of the more effective ways to mentally scar a sixteen year old for life.” Mickey laughed softly. He wouldn’t have traded it for the world though, being the first to hold his baby sister. Had a full head of brown curls and whiskey brown eyes that hadn’t changed since that day.

“It’s not so much that as...well, sometimes the child doesn’t make it. I’d rather deal with the worst of battlefield wounds than have to tell a mother that her child didn’t survive.” Arcade looked down at the ground as he walked, and Mickey glanced over at the other man.

“Understandable. Is that why you’re always stuck in the back and I never got to see you before?” Mickey asked. Arcade seemed like a good doctor, so he didn’t actually get why Julie had him shoved in the back corner surrounded by books.

“It probably has more to do with my bedside manner. I’m not exactly a ‘people person’.” That was a bit of an understatement, if the way he treated Mickey was any clue. Mickey didn’t mind it too much (he liked being manhandled sometimes) but he could see how it would upset some patients.

“So why’d you agree to come along with me?” Mickey fished a small pouch out of a side pocket of his pack. It contained a small amount of coyote tobacco, and he chewed on a few of the leaves and offered the pouch to Arcade, who declined with a shake of his head.

“Besides the reason I stated earlier, you being my patient? Professional curiosity. A glancing blow from being shot in the head wouldn’t be newsworthy, so it had to be a more serious wound. And if your sister survived a more serious wound and still retained full function of her body and mind...well that’d be quite a miracle. One’d I’d like to see. Stimpacks and healing powder only fix so much.” Arcade appeared to be contemplating something, probably how he’d go about treating such a wound. Mickey started to think about it as well. Honestly, there wasn’t much anyone could do with a gunshot wound to the head. The victim was usually dead instantly. He didn’t like thinking about how lucky Caroline had gotten. He pushed it out of his mind for now, and attempted to lighten the conversation.

“I’m hurt, Doc. Here I thought it was because of my amazing good looks.” Mickey flashed a smile at the blonde man and was pleased to see pink blossoming on the doctor’s cheeks, even in the dim lighting.

“Are you always this flirtatious?” Arcade asked, running his hand through his short hair. Mickey shrugged his shoulders and walked around a deep hole in the road at the same time Arcade stumbled over some debris, distracted.

“Only with the cuter Followers.”

Arcade didn’t reply, instead focusing on the road ahead. Mickey suppressed a smirk at the pink hue on the doctor’s cheeks. They travelled in silence for a while, the sounds of Vegas fading behind, leaving the night sounds of the wasteland. Off in the distance, coyotes howled. The moon was bright and was lighting their way, but Mickey planned to hole up somewhere and rest in a few hours. Travelling at night wasn’t the smartest plan, but Mickey had made it a point to not live his life the smart way, but the fun way.

“So, energy weapons? Didn’t take you for the type to carry at all.” Mickey said after a while. It wasn’t that the silence was awkward, he was just a normally talkative person.

“I’d prefer to avoid combat if at all possible.” Arcade said mildly and out of the corner of his eye Mickey saw him tug his coat over the holster for the plasma pistol.

“You and me both. I’ve seen enough for a lifetime.” Mickey said, not allowing his mind to wander back to those times. At least, not too far. He wasn’t that person anymore. Well, he’d argue that he wasn’t ever that person to begin with.

“Then why the bar fights over card games?” Arcade asked and Mickey laughed.

“I don’t start them. Some people just don’t take losing all that well.” Mickey touched his lip, where the split was healing nicely thanks to the stimpack. He could probably pull the stitches out in the next day or two.

“Right…” Arcade muttered. The conversation trailed off again and Mickey concentrated on the road. They were making good time, and would probably get to the 188 trading post by daybreak. From there, they could take take the road down through Novac and circle around to get to Primm. It was a long walk, but it beat tangling with Deathclaws or going off the beaten path. Who knows what they’d run into.

He had to admit that it was good to have a companion, someone to talk to. He didn’t know how Caroline did it. She took a trip to Shady Sands once as a courier, and did the whole trip by herself. He hated it, and worried about her for the whole week she was gone, but she came back happy and tanned, with her pack filled with gifts she had bought. She never did mind being by herself.

He hoped she was okay. Their mother would crawl out of her grave and beat him to death if she was anything but 100% okay.

Hours passed by with some conversation, and he definitely appreciated the doctor’s presence. Sure, the man stopped every now and then to gather some native plant that he claimed could be used for medicinal purposes, but it never took more than a few minutes, and Mickey was learning things along the way. He wouldn’t have pegged the doctor for a survivalist, but he did know quite a bit. Like how broc flower and xander root could be used to make healing powder. Mickey had used it before, but had never actually known how to make it.

In return, Mickey showed Arcade the ideal way to use the ripper attached to the doctor’s pack when they stopped to rest (at the doctor’s insistence that Mickey needed to take it easy with his bruised ribs). Despite not wanting to fight, sometimes a fight found you, and after a few hours, Mickey had grown to like the doctor a bit.

When the sky began to lighten, Mickey pulled the map from his pack to squint at it and check their location. They weren’t far from the 188, so there they could stop to rest and get some food. He was looking forward to getting off his feet for a bit (his days marching through the day and night were long behind him) and maybe get a cup of coffee to keep himself awake long enough to get to Novac, where they could get a room at the motel there to get some rest. He wasn’t actually sure how Arcade was keeping up with him.

The map was replaced in his pack and he looked up against the horizon. Three trails of smoke reached up towards the sky, trailing behind three small objects that Mickey assumed were either missiles or rockets. He stopped in his tracks and Arcade stopped beside him, looking at the same spectacle.

They stood there long after the rockets disappeared, both men wondering what exactly was going on now. The wasteland was a strange place.

 


	4. The Catalyst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six gets a little bit of rest, and then her life gets even more interesting.

Oddly enough, it was Boone that broke the silence of the early morning. The two of them looked out the observation window at the three exhaust trails until they dissipated in the breeze. Six had looked on with a hopeful smile.

“D’you really think that they’ll make it?” Boone asked, startling Six. The man had hardly said anything to her since they left Novac. They took care of the ghoul problem easy enough, although there were Nightkin to deal with, which was unexpected. Still, Six got to see Boone’s proficiency with his rifle, and he wasn’t bad with the machete he strapped to his waist either. One of the few things he said was a comment on her skill with her own guns. She had impressed the sniper and asked where she had learned how to shoot.

She wished she knew.

On their way back to Novac, Six wondered how Boone would explain his absence. They had pulled the Crawford woman’s body away from the dinosaur, made it look like some raiders had taken her. Even busted up her place a bit. Still, Boone leaving so suddenly would likely raise some questions.

The sun was cresting over the horizon as they reached the little town, and Six saw the briefest moment of hesitation in her companion as they approached.

“How about you go get some rest. I’ll finish up my business here and we can take off this afternoon?” Six suggested and the sniper nodded and walked up to his own room. Six stood in the courtyard after he disappeared inside, breathing in the morning air. She had a ton of junk in her pack and intended to see if Cliff Briscoe wanted to buy any of it, but she also had some useful stuff. Back in Primm she had come across a busted up eyebot. Johnson Nash had said that if she could fix it, it was hers. She didn’t know the first thing about fixing robots (or at least she didn’t think she did) but she was interested to see if she could.

Plus, having a robot seemed like it’d be neat.

First, she had to find the guy who shot her.

“Hey, kid. You’re up early.” Manny, the daytime sniper, came out of his room with his rifle slung over his back. Six shrugged.

“Didn’t actually sleep last night. Took care of the ghoul problem for you. They won’t be bothering you anymore.” Six told him. He looked shocked, but she kind of expected it. She wouldn’t tell him that she had help. Let him think that Boone was up there all night, protecting the town.

“Wow. Thanks. You don’t understand how much that’ll help us out.” Manny smiled appreciatively, but suddenly, Six was impatient. She wanted the info and she wanted to leave the town.

“So. About the man in the checkered coat…”

“Oh yeah, Benny. He was with a couple of members of my old gang. They stopped through here on their way to Boulder City.” Manny kept talking, but Six was hardly listening. So the guy’s name was Benny. Good. She had a name. She asked about the gang members, mostly to see if they’d be any trouble, and it seemed like having Boone along would be a good thing. Great Khans were tough, if anything Manny had said was true. Thanking him for the information, she made her way up to her room and closed the door behind her.

Close. She was so close. She didn’t know how long they’d be in Boulder City, but she did need to rest, and so did Boone. She sat down on her bed, still in the leather armor she had scrounged up from somewhere. It was far better than the jumpsuit she had. It wouldn’t do much against a bullet, but most bladed weapons would have some trouble with it.

She stripped off the armor and crawled into the bed, hoping to grab a few hours of rest. Her mind was still crawling with thoughts of revenge, of what she’d do to this Benny when she caught up with him. First, she’d get answers as to where the Platinum Chip was and why it was worth shooting her in the head over.

She found that she couldn’t rest. She’d pay for it later, when she dropped on the road of exhaustion, but for now, she settled for laying on the bed, her arms crossed over her chest, making her plans.

She laid there for at least two hours, watching the sunbeams crawl along the ceiling, thinking, before her mind matched the exhaustion her body felt and she drifted off to sleep.

She woke only a few moments later, it seemed, although the shadows in the room told her that it had been at least a few hours. There were voices outside her room, two men by the sounds of it. She lifted the Pip-Boy on her arm and checked the time. It was a little after one in the afternoon. She had gotten a few hours of rest, which was more than she had originally anticipated, and it’d get her through the rest of the day until they reached Boulder City.

“....ribs are fine, Doc. Fixed me up alright.”

“I’d hope so. Are you going to open the door anytime soon?”

“Maybe I just like standing here looking at you. Oh, don’t give me that face. I don’t think that guy knew what key went where. I’ll have to pick it.”

“Oh, because that won’t get us questionable looks.”

“If you stop distracting me, I’ll get it done.”

“Oh, I’m distracting you? I only tripped over every rock and fell in…..fine.”

“You’re pretty antsy there, Arcade. Problems?”

“I just want to get inside.”

“If you wanted me that bad, all you had to do-hey, it’s open- Christ!”

A door opened and then closed, not gently, and she could hear the muffled voices on the other side of the wall, but couldn’t catch their conversation anymore. It was amusing, but she had to get up and gather her things. Swinging her legs off the bed, she sat up and looked around for her armor. As she pulled it on, her stomach growled and reminded her that she missed breakfast. She’d figure something out with Boone before they took off, if he was hungry, and then they’d get on the road.

She looked at the torn vault suit before shoving it into her bag. She’d deal with it later. If anything, she could use the material as patches for other things. It wasn’t as if she was a vault dweller herself. Or was she? She couldn’t know.

Her bottles of water were filled at the sink in the bathroom. Water was probably slightly irradiated, as most water sources these days were, but it wouldn’t be all that bad. It was better than nothing, after all. They were put in her pack as well, towards the back. Extra ammo was set in the outer pouches and her food was set on top.

She set the pack on the bed, holstered her pistol at her hip, and went to go find Boone.

Outside, Cliff Briscoe was talking with the Ranger, Andy. They looked up as she came out, and she didn’t like the look on their faces. It was accusing, like she had done something wrong.

Well, she had helped Boone kill the Crawford woman, but to be honest, she had deserved it. Still, she wondered how she’d get out of it if they asked her. Maybe Boone would stick up for her.

She made her way over to the sniper’s door as nonchalantly as she could. she could still feel the ranger’s eyes on her as she moved. She knocked twice and waited briefly before the sniper opened the door. He didn’t look like he had gotten much rest, the dark circles underneath his eyes had gotten darker and he wavered slightly as he stood in the doorway.

“Did you sleep any?” She asked, concerned for the man’s well-being. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses, and she actually got to see his dark green eyes. They looked more than tired. He shook his head.

“I couldn’t sleep. The room….”  
  
“Reminds you of her. I get it.” Six looked down and saw a smear of blood on the carpet. Was that hers?

“Why don’t you go and catch a nap in my room? We’ll leave at sundown. I’m going to go up the road to the scrap yard, see if there’s anything useful for me up there.” She offered. Honestly, she didn’t want the man to push himself too hard. She cut off his refusal of the offer with a wave of her hand.

“Seriously, go rest. I’ll be fine.” Without waiting for him to speak, she pulled him out of the room and pressed her key into his palm. He shuffled over to her room, weariness written in every line of his body. She felt awful for him. Hopefully, some time away from the town would help him through his grieving process.

Six waited until he was in her room before she left Novac, wandering up the road towards the scrap yard marked on her Pip-Boy. It wasn’t far, and outside, an old woman sat, surrounded by dogs. Old Lady Gibson, she was called, and she allowed Six to poke through her bits of scrap. There were a few more bits of scrap electronics that she bought. She didn’t know how much she’d need to fix that eyebot. She unloaded some of the less useful stuff, and the woman bought most of it at decent prices.

After finishing her business, Six knelt down to pet the dogs, all of them pushing for their turn. She laughed and pushed herself back to her feet. Saying goodbye to Old Lady Gibson, she made her way back to Novac.

She still had several hours to kill, so she settled down outside what looked like an old gas station to eat some lunch. She had some old potato chips and a couple of apples that weren’t too badly bruised. It was an alright lunch, she supposed, certainly better than nothing. She had a bit more to share with Boone, but she was really hoping she could hunt later for some gecko. Hell, she’d be happy with coyote right now, anything fresh was really better than Pre-War food.

She was relaxed, soaking up the warmth radiating from the stone underneath her and enjoying the sound of a radio drifting from somewhere, when the report of a rifle startled her. There were four more shots, and then the almost-silence again. She looked up at the mouth of the dinosaur, and could see Manny reloading his rifle and lifting it to his eye again.

He didn’t fire again, so whatever he had been shooting at wasn’t getting back up, and eventually, he lowered his rifle. It had to be a bit boring at times, scanning that section of the wasteland for threats. Travelling with her would likely be a bit more exciting for Boone. It’d give him something else to think about.

An hour or so passed, and Six decided to busy herself by cleaning her pistols. Not that she’d get all that much done with the wind blowing debris around, but she could strip them and maintain them. She had picked up another 10mm pistol a while back for spare parts, so she pulled it out and replaced the spring in her pistol.

With the pistol put back together, she lifted it and checked it to make sure it was still sighted properly. She didn’t have much else to do, but maintaining her weapons was something she tried to do often. They saved her life, and she couldn’t risk a jam in the middle of combat.

The sun slowly dropped towards the horizon, but they still had at least another hour of daylight left before she went to wake up Boone, so she played with her Pip-Boy, modifying the settings and checking her map. She was getting bored. Well, restless was probably the right term. She wanted to get moving, but at the same time, she didn’t want to push her new friend too hard when he needed sleep. He needed more than few hours, sure, but she couldn’t let Benny get any more ground on her.

She got to thinking about how she’d kill Benny. She liked to think that she hadn’t ever killed anyone in cold blood, but she was entertaining the idea of standing over his corpse after she put two in his skull. Except she wouldn’t let him live. She’d press her pistol to his forehead and pull the trigger until she ran out of bullets.

A sharp pain in her palm brought her out of her thoughts and she looked at her hand and realized she had been clenching her fist so tightly her nails had dug into her palm and began to bleed. She frowned at her hand. She was getting angry at thinking about Benny. Too angry. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to find the relaxation she had a few minutes ago.

Booted feet crunching on the ground told her someone was coming towards her, but she didn’t look up, not immediately. They were coming from the town, and most of the people there had been nice enough, she didn’t think they’d start anything. She also had her pistol still in her lap, now loaded.

“You really should clean that up. It doesn’t take much for even the smallest cuts to get infected out here.” It was one of the voices from earlier, and she looked up to see a (very) tall blonde man standing in front of her, wearing a white doctor’s coat and thick framed glasses perched on his nose.

“I’ve had worse. But thanks, I’ll have a look at it later.” She tugged the white apron that was part of the dress she had out of her pack, and tore a strip off and wound it around her palm. It’d keep the dirt out. It wasn’t that serious, just a series of small, half-moon shaped cuts. They’d heal quickly enough.

“So, I take it you’re not from around here then.” The man nodded at her pack and Six shook her head.  Six motioned for the doctor to take a seat beside her, and he did so, his long legs sticking out at awkward angles as he tried to mimic her cross-legged position. She smiled at him. He was kind of cute, with big blue eyes hidden behind those thick frames. If she had time, she’d probably try and get to know him a bit.

Benny first, and then she’d find a boyfriend.

“Neither am I. Just passing through, really. Stopped to rest, but I couldn’t get that much sleep.” He looked off towards the setting sun, and she looked over at him and saw dark circles under his eyes.

“Maybe you should try a bit more. You look exhausted.” She suggested, but he shrugged.

“I’m just not used to walking so far. I’m a doctor in Freeside, I didn’t expect to be trekking across the Mojave. I’ll be fine.” He assured her and she caught him studying her. It was strange feeling, but one she was used to. She did have a nice pink scar on the left side of her forehead where the skin had knit closed over the bullet wound. She resisted the urge to reach up and touch it.

“Long walks is what I do. Good thing you’re a doctor, not a courier, right?” She said brightly and watched as something clicked in the doctor’s mind. She wasn’t all that great at reading people, but she saw his body language change.

“A courier...your name wouldn’t happen to be Caroline, would it?” The man asked cautiously. Six had to resist the temptation to touch her pistol. Honestly, she didn’t know what her name was. She was busy judging on whether or not she should trust the man enough to tell him that when he stood up, immediately setting her on edge.

“You’re the courier on the radio that we heard about. Listen, my companion is going to want to meet you. He’s the reason-” Six launched herself up, latching onto the man with one hand, her other hand pressing her pistol into the taller man’s stomach. He stopped immediately, his eyes widening.

“And your companion would be?” Six demanded, and if anyone else had been looking, it might have been comical. Here she was, maybe five inches over five feet, holding onto a man who had at least a foot on her, and he was the frightened one.

Well, she was holding a gun. Most men would be thinking about imminent death with one of those pressed into their stomach.

“Hey...just, uh, take it easy, okay? His name is Mickey. He’s been looking for his sister, who is a courier with the Mojave Express. He seems to think that she was the one shot in the head, so he took off to find her. I just assumed that with the scar on your head and you mentioning you’re a courier, he’d want to see you.” The man held his hands up to show he was unarmed, but Six didn’t check him for weapons. Instead, she took a step back and lowered her gun.

As far as she knew, she was the only courier who was shot in the head. There could be others, of course, but she doubted it. Still, she had to be a bit smart about this. There was a chance that this Mickey knew who she was, but there was also a chance these two were here to finish up what Benny started. If they had heard a report on the radio, chances were that Benny had too.

“I don’t remember who I am, so I couldn’t tell you if I have a brother named Mickey. Or a brother at all, for that matter. So here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to wait here while I go get my friend. And then you’re going to go get your friend. And then we’ll come out here and have a nice chat, and see what’s going on. But I’m going to say right now, my friend is a hell of a shot, so if this all turns out to be bullshit, I’m going to leave you both in the middle of the road bleeding to death while I continue on my merry way, okay?” Six said, and the blonde man nodded and didn’t say another word. He backed up a bit more, leaning against one of the support beams for the overhang, tucking his hands in his pockets. She felt kind of bad about it, but she wasn’t about to risk getting shot again.

Cautiously, with frequent glances over her shoulder, she made her way up to her motel room. She knocked on the door after turning the knob and remembering that she had given Boone her key, and a moment later, he answered the door. She ducked inside and closed the door quickly.

“Something up?” Boone asked and while he still looked tired, it was a lot better than he had looked before. He was perceptive, at least, picking up on her distress.

“Yeah. Uh, listen. I know you don’t know a lot about me, and I don’t have time to really explain. The short of it is that I was shot in the head, and now I don’t remember who I am. There’s a couple of guys who claim to know who I am, but I can’t trust them. I need you down there with me in case they try something.” Six explained in a rush, tucking her pistol into its holster. She opened a drawer in the bedside table and pulled out the combat knife she stashed in there and tucked it into her boot.

“I’ve got your back.” Was all he said, and she smiled gratefully up at him and considered hugging him before her mind told her that probably wouldn’t be received well. Instead, she opened the door and walked out, her sniper right behind her.

The blonde man was still waiting for her when she came out of the gated area and he looked a bit more cautious when she approached with her sniper. Boone was intimidating, even though the blonde had six inches on Boone. It was the hunting rifle strapped to his back, along with the machete. And the fact you couldn’t see his eyes behind the tinted sunglasses he wore.

“Go find your friend. Pass on the warning too please.” Six rested her hand on her pistol and settled in to wait. The blonde hurried off, tossing a few looks over his shoulder.


	5. You're Gonna Go Far, Kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey didn't think that'd he'd ever have to re-introduce himself to his sister. Still, it went better than he expected.

Sofas weren’t meant for people as tall as Mickey was. Except Mickey was a gracious man, and Arcade was definitely taller than he was. Okay, so it wasn’t that much taller. An inch or two. Arcade had napped on the bed, and Mickey crashed on the sofa. It was an alright arrangement, until Mickey woke to the sound of Arcade slipping out the door. Mickey did wonder where the man was getting off to, but maybe he had just become restless.

Or maybe it was Mickey’s snoring.

Either way, Mickey didn’t want to hear the good doctor complaining when they continued on later, despite their state of rest. Mickey settled back in, ignoring the thought of climbing into the bed that was recently vacated. He’d slept in worse conditions. It’d be fun though, to watch the doctor’s cheeks turn pink again as Mickey needled him with some lewd comments about sharing a bed.

If he wasn’t in such a rush to find Caroline, he’d spend a few nights here showing the doctor exactly what the bed could be used for. If Mickey was reading the situation right, the other man would be more than okay with it. It was adorable though, the way he blushed and stammered with every remark Mickey made. It seemed that he wasn’t used to someone openly flirting with him, although Mickey remembered Arcade’s remark just before the Med-X last night. After Caroline was safely tucked away back at home (and oh, how she’d hate that), he’d take Arcade out to the Wrangler and show him a good time.

For now, it was just for his personal amusement.

Sleep was just settling back over Mickey when the door opened again, startling him awake. He opened his eyes a bit to see Arcade standing by Mickey’s feet, his blue eyes wide.

“I need you to come with me.” Arcade said quickly. Mickey sat up, wary. The man was nervous about something.

“Talk to me.” Mickey was moving, reaching for his shirt and boots.

“I may have found your sister.” Arcade held up a hand to silence Mickey when he went to say something. “But there’s a problem.”

“You know, when I say talk to me, it means keep talking.” Mickey laced up his boots, anxiety flowing through him. It was unlikely that Arcade would have found her, but he was still worried about it.

“There’s a girl outside. She mentioned she was a courier, and then I noticed an obviously healing wound on her head. Looked like a bullet entry wound. Wasn’t hard to put two and two together. Physically, I think she’s fine. However, she did say she can’t remember who she is.” Arcade paused for breath. Mickey froze. Couldn’t remember….

“Proof. I’d need proof. I have a picture. It was taken ages ago, back when….well, it doesn’t matter. I don’t have it with me, it’s back at home.” Mickey sighed. Well, this was going to be difficult.

“She’s not going to like that. She….well, she’s got a friend with her. NCR First Recon, and she seems pretty twitchy herself. Seems to think that we might be assassins.” Arcade said, rubbing his stomach absently. Mickey chuckled despite himself.

“Relax. If she wanted you dead, your body would already be cooling in the street. Best shot I know, even better than Dad, and he was a Ranger. Come on, lets not keep them waiting. Imagine if this was all a misunderstanding, and it wasn’t her?” Still, Mickey tucked his pistol into the back of his pants and pulled his shirt over it. He had his boot knife as well. If it was Caroline, he’d trust her without a thought, but as a rule, he didn’t trust anyone who wore a uniform. Of any kind.

Arcade didn’t count. A doctor’s coat was hardly a uniform. It was just practical, right?

The blonde man led MIckey outside the gated area, and immediately Mickey recognized her. Brown hair tied up to keep it out of her face. Her relaxed but ready posture with a hand waiting casually on her gun resting in its holster. The lean shape of her from her work as a courier and her tanned skin, darkened by the sun. He was pleased to see her wearing leather armor. He had always pushed her to wear it, but she had usually refused instead wearing lighter clothing for her journeys.

Maybe he’d get lucky. He did quite often, which was how he made his living instead of having an actual job. Endless games of caravan and occasional trips into the casinos usually netted him enough caps to live a modest life. Their familial resemblance was there, if one knew how to look. They both had similarly tan skin, although Caroline’s was definitely darker, coming from their father’s side of the family. Had said his folks came from one of the countries south of the United States, back before the war. Couldn’t remember which, something with a G though. Geography was never his strong suit.

They had similar lips as well, although they definitely suited her more than him. They were small and feminine, quick to smile in any situation. Mickey also knew other things about her, certain scars and how she got them, her dominant hand, where the pendant she wore came from (if she still wore it). He just might be able to convince her.

As they approached, her posture changed from relaxed to tense. If you didn’t know otherwise, you wouldn’t have seen it, but Mickey had been caring for her since birth, and he knew every little thing about her. He slowed down a bit, not wanting to rush and spook her. Still, his heart sunk. She really didn’t remember him.

Mickey noted the sniper beside her but he didn’t pay too much attention to the man. He had his arms crossed over his chest, and judging by the rest of his face, glowering at him behind his sunglasses. He held his hands up as he approached to show he wasn’t holding any weapons.

“Do you really not remember anything?” Mickey asked, stopping a few feet in front of her. Caroline scowled at him.

“Hello to you too. No, I don’t remember anything before some New Vegas jackass put two rounds into my skull. Best start talking, I’m feeling a bit trigger happy today.” She retorted, curling her fingers around the grip of her pistol

“Well, I’d show you a picture, but I didn’t bring it with me. It’s back at my place in Freeside. Well, it used to be yours. You gave it to me since you were never home, off being a courier. But uh...well, you’ve got couple of scars across your stomach. From a deathclaw you encountered a few years back. You’re left handed, but shoot with your right because that’s how dad taught you. And you wear a necklace, well, I hope you still have it, with a pendant made from a .308 round and two .45-70 rounds.” Mickey said, and he watched her left hand drift up to her neckline. He couldn’t see the necklace if it was there, but judging by the movement, it was.

She appeared to be considering what he had to say, and threw a glance at the First Recon guy beside her.”What’s my name?”

“Caroline Christine Rosales. You were born on January 15th, 2261.”  

“God, that’s a bit pretentious. Still, better than what I’ve been calling myself. Who are you?” Her grip loosened on her gun but her hand didn’t move. She was starting to warm up to him. He offered a gentle smile.

“Michael Christopher Rosales. I’m your older brother, to the tune of sixteen years. From Arizona, originally, but now Freeside.” Caroline tilted her head slightly, the indication of her considering something, when her sniper friend spoke up.

“Arizona? That’s Legion territory.” The sniper growled at him. Mickey did his best not to show annoyance.

“It is now. Back when we lived there as kids, it was just a tiny settlement on the river. Legion burnt the place to the ground, after they took whatever supplies we had and their slaves.” Mickey replied carefully, knowing that one wrong word would put a bullet in his stomach.

“How’d we escape?” Caroline asked, her eyes watching him carefully. Before, he could have told her the sky was green and she’d believe it, but now she had no reason to trust him. Good thing she wasn’t all that great at picking out lies. Still, he’d be safe and not lie about the whole thing. He didn’t need her twitchy sniper friend to pick apart his entire history. He wouldn’t like what he found.

“There was a cave not too far from the outskirts of town. Kids used to go there and play all the time, but I guess in all the confusion, it got looked over. We hid there until it was clear, and then we split up. I sent you north to the Mojave Outpost to go find Dad.” Mickey told her, and it was better this way. Before, Caroline knew more than she ever needed to. Now, she could be blissfully ignorant.

There were some things she just didn’t need to know.

“What was he there for?” Mickey should have known she’d have a lot of questions, and he kind of wished they were sitting down for this. It was rapidly getting dark.

“Dad was a Desert Ranger. He was up there for the signing of the Ranger Unification Treaty. I wanted you to get safe, but I went back to look for survivors.”

“My God, Mickey. That was….she was ten years old, and you sent her by herself?” Arcade spoke up this time. Mickey sighed and rolled his eyes.

“She was a ten year old who could outshoot most of the Rangers who lived in the settlement. She knew a ton of survival skills and was quick on her feet. I would have went with her if I could, but I stayed behind to help.” Mickey explained himself but Arcade still looked at him with some disapproval.

“Are they still alive? Mom and Dad?”

“Ah..no. Mom died about two years before the Legion hit. She had some heart condition, but we didn’t have any doctors around who could treat it.  Dad died in ‘78, probably due to his old age and complications from injuries. He was one of the Rangers at the Battle of the Hoover Dam.” The sun had set completely, and all the color was rapidly fading from the sky. It was getting a little hard to see.

“Let’s say I believe you. I won’t, not until I see that picture, but let’s just pretend for a minute. What happens now?” Well, that was a good question, wasn’t it? She was clearly on a mission, one he didn’t know about yet, but he didn’t want to stop her, not really. She was very independent, and seeing her travel with someone was a little strange to him.

“Ideally, you come back with me and let me help you try and remember your life. But I’d imagine you have something to do - you always do- and I don’t want to push you.” Mickey tucked his hands into his pockets.

“I’d like to see you as well, actually.” Arcade spoke up and Mickey turned to look at the man who was adjusting his glasses. “It’s not often I see someone who survived a wound such as yours, and even less often that they retain the ability to walk upright, let alone speak and shoot.”

“And who are you?” Caroline asked, turning her attention to him.

“Arcade Gannon. I’m a doctor with the Followers of the Apocalypse, over in Freeside, as I said earlier.” Arcade crossed his arms across his chest. Caroline shrugged.

“I don’t know how much I can do for you. You’d be better off talking to Doc Mitchell in Goodsprings, he’d know about it. He fixed me up after that securitron -” Caroline pointed to one waiting by the gate. Mickey didn’t even realize it was there at first, so used to the ones by the gate into the Strip. “- dug me out of the grave Benny and his asshole friends put me in.”  
  
Mickey’s stomach lurched. Grave? God, this was worse than any sucker punch he had felt. His reaction must have been visible because he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked over to see Arcade looking at him with concern.

“I...had no idea. And you know where this Benny is?” Mickey asked. He felt sick, but there was a familiar feeling of rage starting to crawl up his spine.

“Yeah, Boulder City. I’m heading that way tonight. Hopefully I can get there before he retreats back to whatever hole he crawled out of.” Caroline tapped her gun rhythmically, a sign she was impatient.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me come with you, would you?” Mickey would be more than happy to put a bullet in the man’s skull for her.

“I still don’t know if I can trust you. I hope you understand. I’ll meet up with you in Freeside, take a look at that picture, and then maybe we’ll see.” She was understandably hesitant. In her situation, Mickey would be too.

“I guess that’s all I can ask. Hey, NCR, it’s not like I can ask a favor of you, but watch her back, okay?” Mickey looked to the man in the beret, and while he didn’t seem too pleased to be referred to as ‘NCR’, it wasn’t like Mickey knew his name. Still, the man nodded. Mickey wasn’t the most perceptive man in the world, but he had a feeling about that man. He wouldn’t be disappointed.

“I don’t need a babysitter. Still, it’s nice to have someone watching my back. I’ve gotta get going though, he’s already got a head start. Caroline looked at her pack sitting by her feet, then sighed and lifted it onto her back.

“Got a long hike ahead of us, Boone, hope you’re ready. Go get your stuff, I’m fairly confident they’re not going to kill me anymore.” Caroline adjusted the weight on her shoulders and locked her gun in its holster. The sniper stomped back over to the motel, casting a look back at her as he did so.

“Don’t worry, he’s a good shot. Won’t let anything near me. And if he does, “ Caroline reached into her pocket and fished out a silver coin, probably a Legion Denarius. Mickey wondered where she picked that up, as caps were the dominant currency around here. She tossed it into the air, and in a swift move, she drew her weapon and shot the coin as it descended. The coin hit the ground not far away, and she walked over to pick it up and tossed it to Mickey.

There was a sharp pain in his chest as he watched her perform the trick, and he caught the coin, knowing that even in the darkness, there was a hole in the center of the coin. He tucked it into his pocket and smiled at her proud smirk.

“Dad taught you that trick, believe it or not.” Mickey remarked, his mind flashing back to the ten year old kid he remembered, and the dozens of pre-war coins that littered their backyard. He still had some, tucked carefully away with a few other keepsakes he managed to hang onto over the years.

“He must have been a hell of a shot then.” Caroline secured her pistol again and looked over to her right, where Boone was hurrying towards them, obviously due to the gunshot. “Relax, I’m fine. Just demonstrating my skill to protect myself. Shall we?” Caroline gestured towards the road, and the man nodded. Mickey wondered if he ever spoke.

“Be careful, Caroline.” Mickey said, but she was already moving, waving her response as she continued on her journey.

“You’re okay with her just going off to kill a man?” Arcade asked. Mickey shrugged. Sure, he was fine with it.

“Dad taught us a lot of lessons. One of them, one he made sure stick, was ‘Someone ever tries to kill you, you try and kill ‘em right back.’ But she won’t try. She’ll succeed. And I’m perfectly okay with that.” He stood there, watching her until she disappeared into the darkness, and then decided to return to his room. He’d rest a bit more and then he’d decide what to do.

“That’s basically murder, Mickey.” Arcade continued. The doctor was cute, and certainly made travel less boring, but he had morals. Annoying ones.

“I’m no more okay with murder than you are, Doc, but in this case, he deserves it. I’d do it myself if she’d let me, but honestly, I think she needs this.” Mickey opened the door to the room and stepped inside, flipping the light on as he did so. He needed a drink, and began looking around the room for his bag. He had a flask in there somewhere, filled with some scotch. He felt Arcade’s disapproving eyes on him as the other man entered the room and shut the door.

“Listen, I’d kill everyone in the Mojave just so she wouldn’t have to, without hesitation. But that’s not exactly a feasible plan, now is it?” Finding the flask, Mickey unscrewed the cap and took a long pull from it. The alcohol burned pleasantly on its way down, and it made Mickey feel a little better about letting his sister just walk away.

“I don’t suppose you could take on that many Legionaries at once.” Arcade sat down on the bed and watched Mickey as he settled himself down on the sofa. Mickey shrugged.

“Eh. Seven or eight of them, maybe. Depending on if they were recruits or not.” Mickey took another pull from his flask. That was if he got lucky. And he usually did.

“You sound like you have before.” Mickey laughed at that. He had managed it, only once, and lady luck was certainly smiling on him that day. He wouldn’t want to try again.  

“Is that where the scars on your back came from? Although, they don’t look like weapon scars, more like -” Arcade asked. Mickey cut him off with an angry glare.

“We’re not talking about those.” Mickey regretted listening to the doctor when he told him to take off his shirt. Julie had seen them, many times. But she never asked. They were old, healed wounds. She didn’t need to worry about them. It seemed Arcade was just too curious.

“Fine. Everyone has secrets. I can respect that.” Arcade laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, his fingers interlaced on his chest. Mickey snorted.

“I highly doubt that any secret you have is as bad as any of mine. What, did you break someone’s crayon as a child?” Mickey relaxed on the sofa and mimicked Arcade, looking up at the ceiling.

“Are you sure you understand the definition of a secret, Mickey?”

“God, you’re condescending. Let me finish this, I might find it sexy.” Mickey took another drink, then screwed the cap back on and tossed it to Arcade. It bounced off the man’s stomach and landed on the bed.

“Don’t lie, Mickey. It’s not a good thing to do. You find it sexy now.” Arcade picked up the flask and lifted himself off the bed to take a sip. He made a face, then replaced the cap and tossed it back to MIckey. “You like the abuse.”

“Only sometimes.” Mickey set the flask on the floor next to the bed and put his hands behind his head. The alcohol was doing the trick to relax him, and he was doing his best to not bolt out of the door and after Caroline. She was an adult now, and while he wasn’t completely satisfied with how their conversation worked out, at least he knew she was alive.

Only now he was waiting for the spirit of their mother to rise from the grave and come haunt him. That’s what the scotch was for.

“You shouldn’t drink so much if we’re doing more hiking tomorrow. You don’t need to be dehydrated.” Arcade said after a moment. Mickey rolled his eyes. Maybe she was possessing Arcade. It certainly sounded like something she’d say.

“Yes, mom.”

“No, I’m serious. There isn’t much I can do about dehydration out here. I don’t have any way to get fluid in your system besides putting it in your mouth.” Arcade braced himself up on his elbows and Mickey raised an eyebrow at the man.

“Um. Phrasing?” Mickey laughed heartily when the other man paused to consider his words and then flushed a bright red.

“Relax, Arcade. I’m just screwing with you. But I’ll be fine. The Rosales family is made from heartier stuff than that. A little alcohol won’t bother me in the slightest.” Mickey sat up to take his boots off, tugging at the laces he always pulled too tightly.

“It doesn’t look like you’re screwing anything.” Arcade returned, leaning over to do the same. Mickey smirked.

“You sound disappointed, Doc. Careful now, I might start to think you actually want me.” Mickey returned, amused that his wit was making the doctor blush instead of get angry, like it usually did.

“Wouldn’t want to do that, now would I?” Arcade hurried with his boots, setting them neatly by the corner of the bed, and then retreated to the mattress. Mickey chuckled again, kicking his boots over towards his pack.

“I can never tell with you. Get some sleep, Doctor. Long walk in the morning.” Mickey reached up and flicked off the light, plunging the room into almost complete darkness.

“Are we going back to Freeside?”

“Nope. Sticking to my original plan. Sort of. We’re going to Goodsprings to go see this doctor. I want to know details. You can translate for me.” Mickey wrestled the thin blanket out from underneath him and draped it over his body, leaving his feet free. He hated his feet stuck underneath a blanket.

“Sounds good. I actually wanted to speak to him myself. Learning how he did it might allow me to save a few more lives.” Mickey sighed.

“You’re such a bleeding heart, Doc. Get some sleep. I know you’re exhausted.”

“Yes, mom.”

Smartass.


	6. Welcome to the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six curses her terrible luck, but meeting new people seems to cheer her up a bit.

Six was quiet as she and Boone walked through the darkened wasteland. She supposed she should stop calling herself that, now that she knew her name. She wasn’t sure if Caroline felt right, but it was definitely better than Six.

Her mind was considering everything she heard today, and while she wanted to focus on her mission, she found that she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She had a brother. One who seemed nice enough, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to trust him just yet.

Boone was silent beside her, focusing on the road before them. She wasn’t entirely sure she could trust him either, but so far he hadn’t shot her when her back was turned. Maybe, just maybe, after Benny was dead, she could go up to Freeside and ask around. If she lived there before, then someone was bound to see and recognize her.

If not, she was back to square one. But she felt pretty resourceful. She could figure something out.

It was a clear, cool night for the Mojave, with a light breeze blowing from the west. The sky was cloudless, and stars twinkled brightly above her. All in all, it was a nice night for travelling.

The one 188 trading post was mostly quiet, things having settled down for the night, so they didn’t linger, stopping only to drink water and have a quick snack and then they moved on.

Halfway to Boulder City, Boone spoke up. He actually startled her when he asked his question, breaking the comfortable silence that had been between them all night.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Well, you just did so...yeah, go ahead. I’m an open book.” She replied. She’d be as open as she could be, considering she didn’t remember before. It was weird to think about, actually, how that whole chunk of her life was missing.

“Do you really not remember before?” He asked quietly, and Six glanced over at him. He wasn’t looking at her, instead looking off as far as they could see in the darkness. She wasn’t sure if he wasn’t looking at her on purpose.

“Mostly….no. There are bits and pieces floating around in here.” She tapped her head on the side she was shot, just beyond the scar. “It usually comes out in my dreams though. Flashes of things that happened before, but never enough to really understand what was going on.”

One dream she had a few nights ago was beginning to make sense to her, if what her ‘brother’ had said was true. It was a nightmare, really. It wasn’t anything clear, not that she could make out, but after thinking about it, she had known what triggered it.

Walking up on Nipton. The smell of the bodies burning on the fire, the crimson uniforms of the Legion, the men on the crosses. She was amazed they had let her go after that, but the man there, Vulpes Inculta, had wanted her to deliver a message. And deliver it she did.

After waking up, she was constantly hearing stories about Legion atrocities. So when she came upon Nipton, she knew immediately what happened, even before seeing the banners hung up and the bodies crucified. She looked for survivors, at first only finding a man with broken legs inside a store.

She didn’t meet Vulpes until she went inside the town hall, where she came face to face with the man and his fellow Legionaries. Frozen to the spot, there was nothing she could do as he approached her. Drawing her weapon would have certainly meant death at this close range, so she stood in his presence, listened to his message, and when he bid her farewell, she nearly tripped over herself in her haste to leave.

She ran nearly the whole way to the Mojave Outpost. She stumbled into the Administrative building and could barely speak. Ranger Jackson was there, and it took fifteen minutes and a lot of water to get her to talk.

Her dream that night, safe within the Outpost’s gates, had echoed much of what happened at Nipton, and at first, she thought it was just her mind replaying it, but now, picking up on the differences, she thought it could have been the memory of ten years ago, when their settlement was sacked. The screams she heard echoing in her head were certainly different, as there weren’t any in Nipton, just the moans of men dying on their crosses and the fires burning. She also heard hurried footsteps and gunfire.

“Huh.” Was all Boone had said in reply, and she looked over at him again, but his stony face didn’t give her any look into what he was thinking.

“I don’t recommend it. It’s hard, not remembering things.Not remembering my family. If I had friends. I can’t really remember any good memories. Or the bad ones, come to think of it, so I guess it’s not all bad.” She was trying to be an optimist and hoping they’d come back eventually, but it was really anyone’s guess.

“Guess not.” He replied in a tone of voice that made her wonder. It wasn’t any of her business to pry. She barely knew the man. But goddamn if she wasn’t curious.

“I’d bet there’s a few things you want to forget. I’m sure everyone has one or two.” She remarked as casually as she could. Getting the man to open up would probably go a long way, but if she was reading him right, he wouldn’t. Not for a long while.

“Yeah.” Well, he was definitely succinct.

“Don’t suppose you’d share with the class, would you?” She asked, not really expecting any answer. His silence confirmed her thoughts.

And now it was awkward. At least to her. They continued on for a while, and Six spoke up again.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring anything up.” She apologized, her fingers tracing the lines of her pistol. She felt anxious now.

“Don’t worry about it.” He replied gruffly. Six sighed.

“Listen. I, ah, well, it’s not like I really know anything about this, but if you ever want to talk about it. Or you know, anything. I’m around.” She told him, kicking a rock down the road. It clattered against the debris, and besides the light wind whistling across the Wasteland, it was the only sound.

Three things happened seemingly at once. A gunshot broke the near silence, followed immediately by the sound of a bullet ricocheting off the rock at their feet, and Boone grabbing her and throwing her to the side. It took Six a fraction of a second to recover from the schock and then she was reaching for her pistol and looking for the source of the sound.

In the darkness beyond them, backlit by the moon, three figures moved towards them, peppering them with more gunfire. Boone had dropped to one knee, his rifle already in hand. Raiders, most likely, but she’d shoot first and ask questions later. She scrambled to her feet and took aim.

Boone’s rifle cracked and one figure dropped. He was already pulling the bolt back and aiming up again. She fired two shots from her pistol and the closest one to them dropped, crying out in pain. She scowled and squeezed the trigger again, fairly sure that he was dead now.

Boone’s rifle cracked again and the last one dropped to the ground, undoubtedly dead. “We’re clear.” He said after scanning the horizon, and Six lowered her pistol. Once again, she was amazed by Boone’s skill with his rifle. Back at the REPCONN test site, she was impressed, but here in the open, he really shined.

“Thanks for that.” She breathed, tucking her weapon away. She reached over to her left arm and flipped her Pip-Boy light on and wandered over to one of the bodies. It was just a raider.

“It’s what I’m here for.” He said, wandering up to another one. He flipped the body over on its back and examined it.

None of them had anything useful to scavenged besides some ammo, which Six pocketed. Their guns were in horrible condition, not even worth hanging onto for salvage.

“Hopefully Boulder City isn’t this exciting.” She remarked as they continued on.

~~~

Turns out, it was more exciting. She couldn’t decide which part she liked better, the fact that she managed to resolve the situation between the NCR and the Great Khans, or that she ran into one of the Khans that Benny had with him on the night he shot her.

Truth be told, she almost shot him, but she didn’t think she could solve the other situation after that.

She returned to Boone after securing the release of the NCR hostages, turning Benny’s lighter over in her hand. She ran her thumb over the engravings on it, and then tucked it into her pocket. She wasn’t gonna shove it up Benny’s ass (gross) but maybe she’d set him on fire with it. She did have a few sticks of dynamite in her pack…

Bonne waited impatiently by the gate, his arms crossed over his chest. She had him wait outside. She remembered someone somewhere saying something about First Recon and Bitter Springs, and felt like it’d go smoother if there wasn’t a glowering man with a red beret shadowing her.

“Well, looks like I was too slow. Benny made his way back to the Strip. He’s some big shot at the Tops.” She growled and stomped away, not even giving Lieutenant Monroe a second of her time. Anger was bubbling away in her stomach, and she kicked at some debris. “Motherfucker!” She yelled.

She’d never touch him in the casino, surrounded by his own. Getting into the Tops probably would be easy enough, but there’s nothing stopping him from bolting when he saw her. If he even recognized her.

“Well, now what the fuck do I do?” She said, mostly to herself, but she looked over at Boone to see if he had any suggestions. He was predictably silent, but it did seem like he was thinking about it.

“I’m not ready to head that way. Not yet. I need a plan. Lets….let’s go back to the 188, rest, get some food, and see what we can come up with.” She sighed and ran her hands over her head. She had a headache brewing, and wanted to sit down somewhere and rest for a while. Maybe get a nap. The sun overhead was annoying, although it wasn’t quite as hot today.

“Lead the way.” Boone said, nodding forward. His silence was particularly annoying right now, but she held her tongue and moved on, heading back towards the trading post. She’d really like his opinion, but it seemed like he was too busy thinking about it.

At the trading post, Six dropped her pack onto a table and sat down next to it. Boone sat across from her, setting his pack down next to her but keeping his rifle slung over his back .Six dropped her head into her hands and groaned.

“No offense, but you look like you’ve traveled a long way down some bad roads.” Next to Six, a woman wearing rough brown robes sat down. She had a hood of the same material pulled over her head, and Six looked over at her. Well, she wasn’t shy, that’s for sure. “Where ya from?”

“The grave.” Six muttered, looking back down at the table. She wasn’t feeling all that chatty at the moment, but she didn’t exactly want to be rude, either. She’d leave the total silence to Boone.

“Huh. Well. In that case, I take that back. You look pretty good, given the circumstances.” The woman said, and Six chuckled at that. “Well, I’m Veronica. I live in a hole in the ground.”

“A hole in the ground? Really? Sounds comfortable. My name’s Six - I mean, Caroline.” Six responded.

“Well, a bunker, if you want to get technical. I think it sounds better my way. But I’m not around much. I’m usually out getting food and supplies for my family. Whatever they need.” Veronica said. Six frowned. Did she mean like one of those Vaults that were scattered across the country? She didn’t look like a vault dweller.

Six then wondered how she knew what a vault dweller looked like. The only example she really had was Doc Mitchell in Goodsprings.

“So you just leave your family in the bunker when you go on these supply runs?”

“Yeah, I’m not worried. They can handle themselves. And actually these days, I think they’d rather have me out here anyways. But that’s a whole other story. Anyways, can I ask you something?”Veronica continued. Six wondered if she was about to ask for help with something. It seemed like everyone in the wastes needed something done.

“Sure, go ahead.” She replied, folding her arms onto the table and dropping her head down on them. It might have been a bit rude to do so, but damn it she was tired and more than a little pissed off.

“I had a run in with this group calling themselves the Brotherhood of Steel. Pretty strange bunch. Do you know anything about them?” The woman asked in a pretty neutral tone of voice. Six wondered if it was a loaded question and picked her head up to stare at the other woman. Boone spoke up before she could.

“They’re enemies of the NCR. If you know where they are, you should turn them in.” He said, and Six looked over at him.

“Who’s not an enemy of the NCR these days? I don’t know much about them, but they’re usually pretty harmless, unless you use some kind of advanced technology around them. Laser weapons and the like.” Six said, mostly to Boone. He just shrugged.

“If you say so.”

“Well, that shouldn’t be a problem for me. I can’t afford anything like that. So, If I can ask….where are you headed?” Veronica shrugged too. Six still wasn’t sure if she could trust the woman.

“I just go wherever. Drift place to place.” She wasn’t about to tell Veronica of her plans. Could be a plant by Benny. Or anyone, really. It wasn’t like she hadn’t pissed her fair share of people off in the days since she woke up.

“Just wherever the wind takes you, huh? I like that. Keeps things interesting. I’ll be honest, you look like the first couple of people I’ve seen out here who look like they can really handle themselves. There are places I’ve never been to that’d be too dangerous for just me. What do you think? Could I join you guys, help you out?” She asked a little eagerly.

Six considered it for a moment. It was a strange conversation, but she was at least chattier than Boone was. She did like the company too. It felt better knowing she had someone watching her back. Having two sets of eyes on her wouldn’t be a bad idea, and the idea of having some feminine company in general appealed to her. she didn’t trust Veronica, not yet, but it wouldn’t be a bad plan.

“Where are you hoping to go?”

“Oh, no where in particular really. Just hoping to see more of the world. I want to see how different groups have adapted to survive in the Mojave. See if there’s something I can learn from them.” She tapped her fingers on the table, and Six watched them carefully.

“You dont’ look like much. What do you bring to the table?”  
  
“Huh. Good. That’s the look I was going for. Trust me, though. You’ll be glad you brought me along. But if I turn out to be a burden, we can part ways at any time. No hard feelings.” It was then Six noticed the power fist the woman had on her right hand. That was a little more advanced than a set of spiked brass knuckles. Curious.

“If Boone here is okay with it, feel free to tag along.” Six looked over at her other companion. He shrugged and got up from the table.

“Up to you. Your adventure. I’ll be back.” He said and walked away. At first, Six thought he was leaving her, but she noticed his pack still sitting on the bench. So he was going off on his own for a little bit. Hell, maybe he just needed a piss. No big deal.

“Okay then. Welcome aboard.” Six smiled at the woman and extended her hand. Left hand, as she didn’t think it’d be fun to shake hands with a power fist. Veronica shook it and grinned back.

“Now you’re talking. One thing you should know first. It’s good your friend got up, because I asked you about the Brotherhood because I’m one of them.” Veronica’s grin turned sheepish. “I know, I know. But I had to know how you’d react when I told you. We’ve made a lot of enemies. Like the NCR.”

And there was the catch. Six didn’t mind, not so much. From what she knew of the Brotherhood (wherever that knowledge came from) they weren’t so bad. Started fights they couldn’t win, sure, but everyone did that now and again. Boone would be tricky. She liked the sniper.

“As long as you’re honest with me from now on. I do feel better knowing you’ve had some training, though.”

“Not gonna lie, I’m great at punching people. It’s a gift. Just, uh, don’t ever ask me if your outfit makes you look fat. So, about your NCR friend…” Veronica said, and Six tapped on the table, thinking.

“We’ll….just not tell him. Not immediately. Let him see that you’re not so bad. Just, uh, don’t actually turn out to be Legion or something. I don’t think there’s a power in the world would stop him from putting a bullet in you then.” Six didn’t like that plan, but it was the best she had. Someone else needed to make the plans. Hers turned out badly.

“No problem there. So, uh...what’s the plan?”

“Honestly? I couldn’t say. I was chasing after this guy, Benny, but he’s on the Strip, and I’m not ready to head there yet. Maybe I can do a bit more out here first. Explore. Try and remember…” Six interlaced her fingers and brought her hands up to her lips, tapping them against her mouth idly.

Nipton had triggered memories of the past for her, perhaps other places could too. She wouldn’t know where to start, but she had to start somewhere. The guy who claimed to be her brother was likely heading to Goodsprings to question the doctor who patched her up, so that gave her some time to explore. She’d head up to Freeside after a week was through.

“Remember what?” Veronica asked. Footsteps behind them signalled Boone’s return, and he had a bottle of water and some skewered meat on a plate. Six’s stomach gave a rumble at the sight, reminding her to eat. Travelling was hard work.

“About a week and a half ago, I woke up in Goodsprings. Doctor there told me I had been shot in the head and left to die in a shallow grave. I was a courier, supposed to deliver a package, but it was taken from me. By Benny. He also took my memories. I don’t remember who I was before.” Six admitted. Veronica’s eyes were wide.

“Wow. So, is that why you’re name is Six Caroline then?”

“What? No. I had been calling myself Six, since I didn’t know my real name. I just know that I was Courier Number Six of the Mojave Express. And then I met someone who claimed to be my brother and said my name was Caroline. I just haven’t gotten used to it yet.” Six still wasn't sure if Caroline was a good fit. Christine wasn’t either.

“So now you travel the wasteland helping people. Admirable thing. Is that what we’re gonna do next?” Veronica asked.

Helping people didn’t sound too bad. She could earn some caps, buy some better equipment, and then figure out a plan to take on Benny.

“As soon as I can find someone to help, yeah. I’ll probably go on up to Freeside in a week or so, meet up with that ‘brother’ of mine and see what he’s really about, but helping people sounds good. The waste is shitty. Time to be a paragon of hope and goodness.” Six grinned. Maybe not a paragon, but at least less of a jackass than most people.

“If I could make a suggestion?” Boone spoke up. Six tilted her head towards him.

“Of course. I’m your friend - well, hopefully somewhere in that ballpark- not your commanding officer. If you’ve got something to say, say it.” Six told him and he took a deep breath before responding.

“I say we go to Camp Forlorn Hope. They could always use a little help.” Boone said and took a sip of his water.

“Veronica, your opinion?” Six asked the other woman. Going to Forlorn Hope wasn’t a bad plan, but Six sensed there was another reason for it. It was awfully close to Nelson and the Legion. Boone was itching to shoot some of the bastards. Honestly, after Nipton and the attack, she was too. But she wasn’t about to drag the other woman into the fray without at least asking.

“Hey, I’m up for anything. Bonus points if I get to punch things.” She waved her arm around.

“Alright then. Forlorn Hope it is, after I get some food.”

“Ooh, Michelle makes a killer gecko steak. Get that.” Veronica said and Six pushed herself up from the table to go find Michelle. Gecko steak sounded fabulous.

As she waited for her meal, Six thought about things. How her life was strange. Was it always this weird before? She wasn’t ready to march into a casino but she was perfectly okay taking down a town full of Legionaries. She had a pistol strapped to her thigh and a hunting rifle in her pack Boone had said he’d clean for her and if they had time, show her the proper way to shoot it. If the rest of her weapons skills were anything to go by, she’d pick it up in no time.

That man, Mickey. Her brother. He had said she had been taught how to shoot by a Ranger. They were the best of the best from what she had heard. It made sense then. Things became muscle memory after a while. Instinct. She didn’t think that the bullets in her skull had scrambled that part. Just the part that told her who she was.

Back at the table, true to his word, Boone had a hunting rifle broken down in front of him. His own was leaned against the table next to him. He was focused on his work, examining each piece carefully. A weapon repair kit sat in front of him too, and slowly he was fixing the rifle.

Veronica was thumbing through a copy of Pugilism Illustrated. Six didn’t disturb either of them, instead sitting down with her food and eating quickly. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until Boone came back with food of his own. She really needed to eat more. She noticed that she was thinner than most other women, and even the leather armor she had liberated from a raider was a bit loose on her.

Sliding the plate away once it was empty, she realized that she could probably eat more if she wasn’t so uncomfortably full. It looked like it was something she’d have to work on.

_“....never take care of yourself. Just like your mother….”_

Those words drifted through her mind, echoing in a voice she didn’t recognize. She wondered who it was.

“Here, I’ve done what I could. It’s not perfect, but it’s usable.” Boone slid the bolt back into the rifle and looked at it one last time before handing it over to Six. She came out of her thoughts and took it carefully, examining it herself. She slid the bolt back and peered inside. The interior was clean and she looked at the rest of it. The stock had seen better days, but she’d be willing to bet that she could find a shop with some parts for her. Lifting it up to her shoulder, she pointed it off in the distance, well away from where anyone was standing, and looked down the sights.

“Thanks. Now all I have to do is find a scope and a red beret and we could be twins.” She joked with him, setting the rifle back down. Boone turned to his pack and shifted through its contents before pulling out a small roll of red cloth. He passed it over to her and she unrolled it and grinned.

“Don’t know if I’m accurate enough to live up to these words, but I’ll do my best.” She pulled the beret onto her head. “How do I look?”

“Patch goes over the other eye.” Boone remarked. Six adjusted the beret and he nodded his satisfaction.

“Nice! Does the NCR have any unarmed units? I want to see that beret. Bet it looks like a big bruise. Our patch would be a glowing fist, with the words ‘Saving People, Punching Things’” Veronica said. Six laughed, and she swore she saw the corners of Boone’s lips twitch up like he wanted to smile.

“C’mon, you two. Lets hit the road.”


	7. Hot Blooded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey and Arcade come upon the horrors at Nipton, and go to the Mojave outpost to report what they've seen. Arcade gets drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for taking so long with this chapter. Between being sick and an ice storm in my area of the country that left me without power for a week, I wasn't able to work on this as much as I'd like.

Mickey knew something was off even before they got close to Nipton. It was too quiet. There should have been some kind of noise coming from the town, but instead there was silence. When he voiced his concerns to Arcade, the man shrugged.

“Radio reports said the town had gone dark, but no one apparently cared enough to check. We can go if you’d like.” Arcade pulled his plasma defender (Mickey had been corrected several times, but Mickey still liked calling it a pistol, even though Arcade insisted that there was a difference) and checked his energy cell. Mickey stared at the town for a moment.

Somebody had to look.

“Yeah, lets go.” Mickey drew his own weapon and the pair continued towards Nipton. The knot in his gut tightened when they got closer and saw the banners. Arcade muttered a curse beside him. Mickey thumbed the safety off on his pistol and continued forward.

Despite the sun shining, there was a dark mood to Nipton. And the smell. Mickey pressed his face into his sleeve, grimacing. Arcade did the same, looking around with a look of horror on his face. The bodies littered around the place were decomposing, and some had fallen off the crosses they were hung up on.

Mickey had seen this before. Many times.

“I can’t believe the Legion made it this far.” Arcade said, digging into his pack. He pulled out what appeared to be a spare t-shirt and fashioned it into a scarf to cover his face. Mickey thought it was a good idea and did the same, and now both his hands were free.

It didn’t do much, but it was certainly better than breathing in all the floating bits of decomposing bodies that caused the smell.

“I can. I doubt there are any survivors, but if you want to look-” Mickey looked towards the town hall, past the row of crucified citizens.

“I do. Nobody deserves this.” Arcade murmured, moving forward. Mickey followed, keeping an eye out. He wasn’t sure if this was just a raid or a trap.

“Don’t move any bodies. If they’re not visibly breathing, move on.” Mickey warned, adjusting his grip on his gun. This whole situation made him uneasy. It brought back painful memories he had shoved to the back of his mind, never intending to touch again.

“Noted.” Arcade moved up towards the town hall, skipping right past the bodies that had fallen from the crosses. It was obvious that they were beyond saving. Mickey held the doctor back when he went to open the door to the building, instead carefully opening the door himself. He checked for traps of any kind, then allowed the doctor to enter.

Inside the building was no less gruesome. There were more bodies, signs of a fight. Arcade approached each one, looking carefully but not touching any of them. They cleared the entire building, except for the basement door, which was locked. Mickey was unable to pick the lock and the key was nowhere to be found.

Outside, the two men paused and looked at each other. Mickey was tense, more on edge than when he had heard about Caroline. Arcade had a slight tremble, really only visible if you looked at his gun.

“We have to tell someone about this.” Arcade said. Mickey nodded. It was too late for anyone to know anything, but the NCR had to be told about the Legion’s push into Nevada.

“The NCR has a bit of a presence at the Mojave Outpost. We’ll let the Rangers over there know.” Mickey said, securing his weapon again. Arcade did the same. If they were travelling faster than they were before, neither man mentioned it.

They were both silent the whole way to the Mojave Outpost.

* * *

“Of course they won’t fucking do anything. Gotta follow their orders. What bullshit.” Mickey grumbled, sitting at the bar. A glass and a bottle of whiskey sat in front of him, although the glass hadn’t been touched. Instead he was drinking straight from the bottle. He figured he might as well, since he paid for the whole thing. Arcade was beside him, sipping carefully on a glass of whiskey mixed with Nuka Cola, although he had been adding more Cola to it as he went along. Mickey had poured it for him, and probably made it a little strong for the good doctor.

“Isn’t that the damn truth.” The redhead a few seats down agreed, lifting her own bottle at Mickey. Mickey looked over at her and flashed a charming smile. She wasn’t bad looking, not really his type, but being a shameless flirt couldn’t be avoided. He picked up his bottle and moved to sit by the redhead, noting what looked like jealousy on Arcade’s face. The man hid behind his drink, taking a larger than usual sip.

“And what bullshit has you indulging?” Mickey waved his own bottle of whiskey towards hers. The woman picked up her own bottle and took a swig.

“I don’t need bullshit to drink.” The redhead said after swallowing her mouthful of whiskey.

“But it’s making you drink all the same.” Mickey remarked. The woman pushed up the brim of her hat and stared at Mickey for a long moment, and then glanced quickly over his shoulder at Arcade.

“Observant. What brings you and a Followers doc all the way out here?”

“Reporting what happened to Nipton. Fucking Legion.” Mickey scowled and took another pull from his bottle.

“Fucking Legion.” The woman repeated and copied his action. “Part of the reason I’m holed up here. ‘Not safe for caravans’, the NCR says. My caravan is fucking gone, and I’m still tied here by paperwork.”

Mickey could sympathize. While it wasn’t exactly the same situation, he had been somewhere that was impossible to leave. Well, not impossible, because he did leave, but it wasn’t easy.

“Fuck ‘em. Who’s gonna come looking if you just left?” Mickey asked, mostly serious. The redhead gave a short laugh.

“Probably a couple of rangers. Now that’s trouble I don’t need.” She drank more whiskey, and Mickey was mildly impressed with the amount of whiskey she was putting away. He had a decent tolerance, but he was willing to bet that she could drink him under the table and into a grave and still be good for more.

“Any day now though, I’ll get out of here. Sent a courier up to see if I could get out of my contract. Kid seemed a little anxious to get the hell out of here. Not that I blame her.”

Courier? Was it Caroline? Was she around here a few days ago?

“Was she about this tall, dark hair, tanned skin?” Mickey asked, holding his hand up to approximate Caroline’s height.

“Yeah, sounds about right. She bought a bottle of whiskey, drank about half of it, we chatted for a bit, and then she left. Not sure where she was off to. She was only here to tell the rangers about what happened to Nipton.”

Mickey paused with his drink halfway to his mouth. She had seen Nipton? His stomach clenched uncomfortably.

“Why, do you know the kid?” The woman asked, frowning at his expression. He had a hell of a poker face with everything but Caroline.

“Yeah. My sister.” He murmured, finishing his movement and drinking the whiskey. His mother really was going to crawl out of her grave. His father too. And he deserved it. Mickey really needed to convince her to find something safer to do.

He laughed to himself. Safer? In the Mojave? Not likely. Suddenly he didn’t feel like sitting at the bar anymore. He wanted to go sit in the dark and drink himself, if God was merciful, to death, so his parents could go ahead and chew him out for not looking out for Caroline.

“Arcade and I are leaving in the morning, should you change your mind.” Mickey got up from the bar, dragging the bottle with him, and left the building. He wanted to be alone now.

Outside, in the cool night air, Mickey tucked himself away behind the building, where there weren’t any eyes. Normally, the whiskey would help him feel a little better about himself. As would the fresh air and the solitude. But right now, he was feeling like a shitty sibling.

Some of his father’s last words, before he slipped into a coma and never woke up, was to look out for Caroline. Keep her safe, keep her happy. And he was failing miserably. Dropping his head into his hands, Mickey leaned against the wall and groaned.

It was either his own crap mood or the amount of whiskey he had imbibed, but he didn’t notice Arcade sitting down next to him until the man spoke up.

“She’ll be alright, Mickey.” The words were unsteady, suggesting that Arcade had more to drink than he was comfortable with, and a small part of Mickey wanted to poke fun at the lightweight. His black mood wouldn’t let him though, and it annoyed him.

“Like we’re alright? Wasteland changes everyone.” Mickey said bitterly. There wasn’t a such thing as innocence anymore. Hadn’t been in a long time. In a world where children learned to kill or be killed, there couldn’t be.

“It’s what you do with the change that is important. If you’re worried she’s gonna become a psychopath bent on murdering everyone who wrongs her, make sure she’s taught otherwise. She’s still young. “ Arcade reached over and took the whiskey from Mickey and drank from the bottle. Mickey watched this with a raised eyebrow.

“Maybe you should slow down a bit.”

“Maybe...maybe you should stop being so bossy.” Arcade slurred and Mickey grinned despite his mood. A drunk doctor was a cute doctor, with his rosy flush and bright eyes. He couldn’t help but feel desire curl in his gut, just a touch. His mind began spinning towards other ways to make the doctor flush, and it was a decidedly better direction than he had been heading earlier.

“I’m starting to think you like it, Doctor.” Mickey reached for the bottle but Arcade jerked it away with a smirk. The doctor waved it teasingly before Mickey, pulling it out of reach when Mickey grabbed for it again.

“Maybe a little bit.” Arcade drank more. Mickey smiled ruefully.

“If only you weren’t well on your way to wasted, Arcade.” Mickey sighed and snatched the bottle from Arcade. He replaced the cap and tucked it on his other side, away from Arcade. As much as he wanted a tumble with the man, it wouldn’t be because of whiskey.

“I like the way you say my name. Arcade. Like you’re...tasting it. Rolling it around-”

“Okay, Doctor. Lets find you a bed.” Mickey stood and pulled the blond man to his feet. Together they made it out to where the caravaners usually stayed, where they had stashed their packs for the night. Two bedrolls were in the corner of the fenced area, and Mickey tried his best to gently place the doctor down, but with both their states of inebriation (although Mickey  didn’t have more than a buzz) it wasn’t easy.

“Just a few days and you already got me into bed.” Arcade laughed, tugging his blanket over his hips. Mickey rolled his eyes with a smile.

“Don’t I wish.” Mickey was sometimes annoyed with his morals. Certainly it would open up more adventures in his life, but taking advantage of a clearly drunk (but very attractive) Arcade Gannon would make him feel terrible.

Plus, Mickey wanted the man to remember the event, should it ever occur. He had no reason to believe that there was anything between him and the doctor besides playful flirting. Mickey had a bad habit of just assuming things. He was determined to change this, however, and instead of jumping into Arcade’s lap for a tumble, he’d let the other man make the first move.

And they were outside, and while Mickey couldn’t care less who saw him go to town, he’d bet Arcade was a whole lot more private. And Mickey doubted Ranger Ghost wanted to witness any part of that. Mickey was nothing if not courteous.

If anything, the doctor’s adorable drunkenness brought Mickey out of his black mood and with a final swig of the whiskey bottle to empty it, Mickey settled into his own bedroll to relax. The night was cool and he tugged a blanket over himself to ward off the chill. He glanced over at Arcade, who was out like a light and snoring softly beside him. A gentle smile curved over Mickey’s lips and he tugged Arcade’s blanket higher and slipped off the man’s glasses and tucked them carefully into a pocket of Arcade’s pack, as he had seen the doctor do previously, so he could find them in the morning.

Lifting his head to look at the stars, Mickey observed the heavens and let the soft sounds of nightfall lull him to sleep.

* * *

 

_The fires were frightening and disorienting. There was screaming and gunfire. Mickey picked himself up off the ground and looked around. The night was lit by these fires, and above the crackling of the flames he could hear screams._

_He recognized this place. Home. Havasu. It was a resort and campground before the war, but now it was a series of ramshackle huts and worn down buildings organized into a community. Now it was on fire._

_Mickey saw others running, occasionally men in crimson tunics tackling men and women to the ground, ripping children from their mothers. Mickey scrambled away, moving towards his home. Dad was gone, but Caroline needed his help. He had to get her out of here. He wasn’t sure how it was, but any group of raiders were dangerous._

_There were plenty of corpses, from both sides. This community was a popular one for desert rangers, and while most of the ones who lived here were away, the ones who remained were putting up a hell of a fight. They had also taught much of the community valuable combat skills. These raiders were well organized though, and obviously had inside information. Why else would they hit now?_

_Their home, part of a pre-War motel, seemed to be mostly untouched by fire, but there were more of the men in the crimson tunics outside. Mickey pulled his gun from his waistband and quickly took care of the group in front of his door. They hadn’t spotted him and he had been shooting since he could hold a gun. They didn’t stand a chance._

_The door hadn’t been breached yet, but it was locked, so he fished his key out and with steady hands he opened the door. The front room was dark, lit only by the light of the fires outside pouring through the door. Closing and bolting the door behind him, he shoved a table in front of it. It’d buy him some time, he’d get Caroline out through the back._

_“Caroline? Baby girl, we have to go.” He called, praying she was here. Quickly, he went to his room and pulled his rucksack from behind the door. His father had drilled into them to be prepared, be ready to move at any time. His bag had basic survival gear, enough to get them through several days in the desert without stopping to forage or resupply. It also had spare ammo._

_The door next to his creaked open and he paused to look out of his room, taking his finger off the trigger guard and placing it onto the trigger itself._

_“Mickey?” A small voice called and he relaxed slightly. It was Caroline. She sounded terrified, and he couldn’t blame her. Fear coursed through him as well, but he had to focus on her._

_“Get your bag, baby girl. We have to go.” He said, going to her._

_“What’s happening? What about Daniel?” She asked. She did as he asked, taking her smaller pack and settling it on her shoulders. She was prepared, just as he was, and her pack also contained a gun. He wasn’t going to risk drawing any more attention though, so as soon as they were outside, they were going to run for it. Daniel was a grown man, and while Caroline adored him (admittedly, so did he) he couldn't’ worry about the man now._

_Out front, the bodies had obviously been discovered and the door began to shudder under the force of blows as the raiders tried to gain entry. He moved then, grabbing Caroline by the arm and pulling her towards their father’s room. The room had large window that opened, and it also led to the lake, where they could use the cover of rocks by the shore to escape._

_He opened the window and lifted Caroline out, and she dropped lightly to the ground below. He followed, pulling the window closed behind them to buy them a few precious seconds._

_It didn’t matter, as the raiders rounded the building and found them. There was no time to react, as Caroline was snatched from him. She fought and screamed, as did he, until a gun was pressed to his temple._

* * *

 

Mickey woke with a start. As he became aware of his surroundings, the intense fear he felt from the dream faded away, as did the memory of the dream itself. It was a common one, and after seeing Nipton, he wasn’t surprised that he had the dream again. He just took comfort in the fact that it didn’t happen that way.  

His head ached and his mouth was dry, the penalty for drinking so much, although a dose of healing powder and some cactus water would be the perfect remedy. And maybe some breakfast.

He looked over to find Arcade gone and felt a small amount of disappointment. However, the man’s pack was still there, which meant he was in the compound somewhere. Mickey pulled himself up and went to find the doctor.

He found him at the bar again, head in his hands and a bowl of Sugar Bombs in front of him. He looked absolutely miserable. Mickey remembered his first hangover quite vividly so he kept his voice down when he ordered some cactus water and his own breakfast, a wasteland omelet. He had healing powder in his pocket and he passed a pouch over to the doctor wordlessly.

“I hate whiskey.” Arcade remarked after swallowing the powder with a mouthful of water. Mickey chuckled and took his own dose.

“You’re not doing it right then.” The redhead at the corner of the bar remarked and Mickey wondered if she was glued to her seat. She seemed to have not moved since last night. Mickey had to agree with her, though. Some of the best nights of his life involved whiskey.

“I’m never doing it again.” Arcade groaned, taking a few bites of the sugary cereal before him. He looked mildly nauseous as he ate. Mickey smiled as his own breakfast was delivered and he ate quickly.

“They all say that. They’re always back for more.” Mickey remarked between bites. Arcade lifted his head to look at Mickey. Mickey winked. Arcade’s cheeks filled with color and he dropped his head.

“Of course. Only two attractive men who come through here, and they’re together.” The redhead said with a sigh. Mickey’s grinned widely as Arcade choked next to him.

“I...we’re not...I’m…” The doctor tried and Mickey slapped him on the back a few times before turning to look at the woman.

“What he’s trying to say is that we’re not together.” Mickey supplied helpfully. The woman looked at them skeptically and shrugged.

“Not judging. Can’t say the same for anyone else around here.” She turned back to her own food, a thick brahmin steak by the looks of it.

Mickey shrugged himself and turned back to his meal, mostly finished by now. Next to him, Arcade had managed to clear his airway and had instead busied himself with drinking an entire bottle of water. Mickey finished up his cactus water, dropped enough caps on the bar counter to cover both his and Arcade’s meals, and stood, pulling the doctor to his feet as well.

“Got a lot of ground to cover today. Sure you’re not gonna come with us?” Mickey turned to the redhead woman. She nodded her head.

“Rules are rules. As long as they keep the whiskey coming, I’ll be alright til that courier comes back with my paperwork.”

Mickey shrugged. He wasn’t sure what Caroline was up to, whether she had found Benny or not, but she always did her job, so she’d be back here sooner or later.

“Come find me in Freeside when you’re free. Ask around for Mickey Rosales, someone usually knows how to find me. I’ll buy you a drink.” Mickey extended his hand towards the woman and she took it and shook briefly.

“Rose of Sharon Cassidy. Just call me Cass. I’ll see you around.” She smiled up at them as they left.

The early morning was cool for an October in the Mojave, but it’d warm right up again. It rarely, if ever got cold here, but on occasion he broke out the thick wool jacket that belonged to his father. He had a few scarves in a trunk at his place too, scarves his father had recovered when he returned to their home. Mickey had kept them. His mother had knitted them, and while there was little call for them in Arizona, sometimes the ranger would take trips north or into the mountains where he needed them.

They were both quiet, heading along the road towards Goodsprings. Arcade was likely still nursing his hangover and Mickey was still thinking about his dream, Nipton and Caroline. Worry had settled deep into his gut and it was hard to not turn around and go find Caroline again. He wouldn’t. Before, she was always very independent and needed her space, and he didn’t think that it would change now.

“Mickey?” Arcade said tentatively. Mickey turned his head to look at the other man, who appeared to be choosing his words very carefully.

“I want to apologize for my...uh, behavior last night. I don’t usually drink.” Arcade said, focusing on the road ahead instead of Mickey. The man was embarrassed.

“No harm done, Arcade. You’re adorable when you’re drunk, by the way.” Mickey said lightly. Arcade laughed with a self-deprecating tone.

“Adorable isn’t what I’d call it. I usually have more class. I don’t throw myself at men.” Arcade replied. Mickey shrugged.

“Hey, do it when you’re sober and you might get somewhere. While drunken sex has its merits, I’d prefer that the first time with you would be memorable.” Mickey remarked casually, carefully watching Arcade for his reaction. The man’s pace faltered for a moment, surprised, but he didn’t seem upset at the idea.

“You say that like you think it’s going to happen.” Arcade raised an eyebrow at Mickey but there was a smile playing on his lips. Mickey stopped in his tracks and Arcade jerked to a halt too, surprised.

“You’re a fucking tease, you know that, Gannon?” Mickey said, his voice nearly a growl. He took a step towards Arcade and the man froze, caught in Mickey’s predatory gaze. Still, somewhere the blond doctor found his courage.

“Takes one to know one, doesn’t it?” This time, Arcade took a step towards Mickey. He was well within arm’s reach now, and Mickey itched to reach out and grab the doctor, pull him forward and kiss him. With an incredible amount of self-control, Mickey managed to stay still, although if Arcade had looked down at Mickey’s hands, he would see them clenched into tight fists. Mickey’s warm honey brown eyes stared into the cool blue ones that Arcade possessed for a long moment.

“Oh, what the hell.” Arcade murmured and leaned forward, his eyes fluttering closed. That was all Mickey needed, and he closed the gap between them, wanting to crush Arcade against him. Instead he was gentle, pressing his lips against Arcade’s. Arcade made a pleased sound and pressed forward, lips curving up into a smile.

Mickey shared the sentiment, quite pleased with how this turned out. Still, he couldn’t stand here all day kissing Arcade, as much as he’d like to. It was hard to pull away, especially when Arcade’s hands drifted up to Mickey’s shoulders, the taller man’s tongue darting out against Mickey’s lips.

As far as kisses went, this was a great one. With a sigh, Mickey pulled away. Arcade opened his eyes with confusion, and Mickey couldn’t resist leaning in for a last quick brush against Arcade’s mouth.

“As much as I’d like to stand here all day, showing you the finer things in life, we do have a mission. When we get back home, we’ll have plenty of time. Come on, lets get this over with.” Mickey smiled and began walking. Arcade stood where he was for a moment, and then shook his head slightly and scrambled to keep up.

Mickey and Arcade walked the Long 15, Mickey whistling cheerfully. Goodsprings would give him some answers about Caroline, and the kiss made up for his dark mood and nightmare last night. All in all, life in the wasteland was good right now. It would change, he knew that, but for now, he could enjoy the little things.


	8. Ultraviolence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six and friends arrive in Freeside and Six gets a new job that doesn't go exactly as planned.

Six counted this as a very productive week. She, with the help of Boone and Veronica, had alleviated some of the issues Camp Forlorn hope had, including re-taking Nelson, and gained a new companion when they decided to go investigate Black Mountain and the crazy radio broadcasts.

Now they were resting at the 188 trading post again. Veronica had taken a bit of a beating fighting the Super Mutants at Black Mountain. They all could use a break, as dirty and road weary as they were, and Caroline was considering going to Freeside. She had to go that way anyhow, with Benny being holed up on the Strip. She needed the Platinum Chip to finish her job. She also figured she'd check in with the guy who claimed to be her brother.

"Hey, Vee, you feel like you can make it to Freeside in the morning?" She turned to the other woman, who was reclining by their fire.

"Made it here, didn't I?" The scribe said wearily. She was heavily bruised, and had only made it this far through the copious use of Med-X. Still, heading to Freeside would probably be better in the long run. Wasn't there a Followers camp there?

"What about you, Raul? Feel up to it?" Six turned to the ghoul, who was also sitting by the fire. He also had a blanket thrown over his shoulders. It was a cold night, as far as things went in the Mojave, and probably a sign she needed to start looking for places inside to take shelter at night. She was bundled up with the vault jumpsuit she was given underneath her leather armor. It was a tight, slightly uncomfortable fit, but it was worth it as she was a bit warmer than the others appeared to be. Boone had even donned a long-sleeved shirt to ward off the chill.

"Your call, boss." The ghoul replied. Six frowned, not liking being called boss, but she figured the ghoul didn't mean anything by it. Hopefully though he didn't feel like he owed her anything. Setting him free had just been a happy coincidence when she investigated Black Mountain.

"If we can, I want to stop by McCarran. Last I heard, my old unit was there. I'd like to go talk to them." Boone said when she turned her attention to him. She nodded.

"Sure, we can do that. Seriously, you guys don't have to ask my permission. I'm not your mother or anything. Anything you guys want to do or think I should do, speak up. We're a team. The three of us shoot bad guys while Vee runs up and punches things to death." Six said, earning a chuckle from the ghoul.

"You know it." Veronica said sleepily. Six looked over at the woman and found her well on her way to falling asleep.

"Get some rest. We'll head on in the morning, and hopefully it won't take us too long to get to Freeside." She settled into her bundle of blankets and curled towards the fire. The others settled in as well, and for a long time things were silent.

Six couldn't sleep though. She just lay there, watching their fire burn down unable to drift off like the others had. She was too nervous, thinking about what was coming. Benny was on the Strip, so she'd have to find him and figure out how to take him out without drawing too much attention to herself. And then there was the matter of her brother. Finding out who she used to be was an exciting prospect, but it also made her uneasy. What if there were things in her past she wanted to forget?

Not everyone got that luxury. The first person who came to mind was Boone. It was obvious to her that he was carrying a great burden, and she wondered if she could get him to open up about it. To be honest, it was upsetting her to see his eyes darkened when they looked like they should be sparkling. He was a very closed individual, and while there was nothing inherently wrong with that, he didn't seem like he was like that to begin with.

Six looked over at the sniper who was laying across from her. His glasses and beret had been removed, and he looked strangely vulnerable without them. They were a part of the armor he used, although against what, she couldn't say. She knew he was still mourning his wife, but there was something else there.

Sighing, she rolled onto her back and looked up at the stars overhead. It was a clear night, and they were all shining brightly overhead. The moon had waned, and while she didn't know any of the constellations, she could appreciate how pretty it was.

Movement drew her attention, and she turned her head to look. Boone was standing, moving as quiet as he could. It certainly wouldn't have woken the others, but as she was still alert, she heard the quiet slide of blankets and his booted feet on the ground. She wondered where he was off to, and waited a few minutes to see if he was going to come back.

After five minutes, he hadn't returned, so Six carefully extracted herself from her own blanket and followed. In the dark, he was hard to spot, but she found him sitting on the edge of the overpass, looking out on the wasteland.

She purposely kicked a rock into a few others to alert him to her presence, noting as he flinched and whipped his head around. His shoulders tightened noticeably.

"Didn't want to spook you." She said, taking a seat next to him. His feet were still firmly planted on the overpass, but Six swung her legs over and let them dangle. The two of them sat in silence, watching the horizon. Six looked up occasionally, admiring the stars. A bright light streaked across the sky, an asteroid burning up in the atmosphere.

"Want to talk about it?" Six said finally, looking over at the sniper.

"About what?" He asked, his voice a low growl. Others would have been unnerved by it, but she was determined to figure things out.

"What's keeping you awake? Or whatever. Talking is good, or so I hear." She said simply, shrugging. She watched the brief flash of emotion in his eyes before they were shuttered again, and he turned away.

"I...I met Carla on the Strip a few years back, while I was on leave. She came up to me, said I looked lost. I was. First time on the Strip has a way of turning you around. She took me to the Lounge at the Tops for drinks. She talked a lot. Fine by me, I never know what to say. And listening to her...could make you forget." He began softly. Six didn't want to interrupt, so she kept quiet until his story was over, but she was already thinking. He had something he wanted to forget, something that happened before Carla. She doubted she'd get to the bottom of it tonight, but it was something for her to work on.

"She stuck out just about everywhere we went. Like she was from a different time. A better time. I've never met anyone like her." Boone paused, ran a hand over his head and frowned. His head was bare, his beret left back with his pack.

"I fell in love with her the moment I saw her. It didn't take her too much longer. We got married a month later, when I had two day leave. I was stationed out at Camp Golf then, but she stayed in Vegas. It was safer there. Manny was the witness, but he didn't seem happy to be there. 'It's too soon' He kept saying. I didn't listen. Couple of months later, my time was up. Manny convinced me to take my papers and walk. We went to Novac. Small community, out in the middle of nowhere. It'd be safe enough, I thought." Boone sighed, a long exhale.

"Should have known. Came back from my watch that night and found her gone. There were bloodstains on the carpet. She was pregnant then, and at first, I thought she was having complications and had gone to find the doctor. But the doctor hadn't seen her. Nobody had, it seemed. I followed some tracks out of town, eventually caught up to them." He took a deep, shuddering breath now. Six didn't mean to, but she took her hand and placed it over his. He flinched and looked down at it. He didn't pull away, so neither did she.

"They were selling her. The Legion. There were so many of them, bidding for things no man has a right to. I saw it all through the scope of my rifle. It was just me….against all of them. So I took the shot."

Six's blood ran cold as she grasped his meaning. She couldn't imagine the strength of will that took. She took a deep breath and squeezed his hand gently.

"I'd rather die than be a Legion slave."

"Yeah….what they do to women...it's worse than death. There was no choice in what I did. It was more like...being forced to watch something you can't stop. All this was ever going to play out one way. It still is. I don't have any say. All I can do is wait for it to be done with me." Boone pulled his hand away, patted his pockets and withdrew a pack of cigarettes. Six had seen him smoke once before, lighting one up as they walked to the REPCONN Test Site the first time they met. She figured it was a high stress thing. She dug her lighter out of her pocket and handed to him. He took a long drag and exhaled a lungful of smoke.

"You make it sound like her death was inevitable." Six remarked, watching him burn through that cigarette and light another. She wondered if she smoke before, and decided she didn't intend to continue if she did. It was a terrible habit. Life in the wastes was already short, she didn't want to make it any shorter.

"It was gonna be something. If I'd never met Carla, it would've been something else. I should've never gotten close to her.I've got bad things coming to me. You'd better keep your distance, too." He took this cigarette slower. Six watched him carefully. She didn't plan on keeping her distance, but he didn't need to know that. She was a big girl.

"Why do you think bad things are coming?"

"Because fair is fair." He sighed again, exhaling a plume of smoke as he did so. Six opened her mouth to say she didn't understand but he interrupted her. "I know you don't understand. It's better that you don't."

She closed her mouth and looked back out over the wasteland with a frown. It seemed like he was about done talking, which was okay. He had said more today than she ever thought he would.

"Thanks for telling me. I know it's hard, but I'm here. For whatever. You know, if you need a drinking buddy. Or if you want to go shoot some Legionaries. Or talking." Six turned her head to look at the sniper again and was surprised when he looked confused.

"What? You look like you haven't had a friend before. I mean, for all I know, I haven't had one before, but I have an idea of what one is supposed to do." For a second, she thought about hugging him but decided against it. It wasn't time for that yet.

"I haven't. Not like you." He murmured quietly, almost like he was talking to himself. She smiled at him and swung her legs back onto the overpass.

"Well, I'm going to go try and get some sleep. I'd suggest you do the same." Six stood up and brushed herself off. She hesitated, wondering if she should say anything else.

"It sounds like it takes somebody really special to get your attention. I would have liked to have met Carla. Goodnight, Boone." Six said softly, resting her hand on his shoulder briefly before leaving the man, returning to her blankets. She added another piece of wood to the fire and curled up underneath the thin wool.

As she drifted off, she heard Boone return to his place beside the fire and she felt safer with his presence.

* * *

"What a shithole." Six muttered to herself once the gates of Freeside closed behind her. She had dropped Veronica off at the Follower's camp with the promise to return to fetch her in a few hours. She had business with the Crimson Caravan, settling the contract for Rose of Sharon Cassidy, a woman she had met at the Mojave outpost during her one and only trip to the place. Boone had left to go meet up with First Recon at Camp McCarran. She'd go find him later. For now, she was just accompanied by Raul, which was a good thing. A few yard from the Follower's doorstep they were assaulted by a couple of thugs, and Raul was quick with his pistol and they were dealt with easily enough.

This wasn't an area she wanted to wander around alone. And she lived here before?

"No kidding. Lets make sure to keep our eyes open while we're here, eh?" Raul replied lightly. Six smiled.

"Yeah, no problem. C'mon, lets get this done so we can go find Boone. I feel like people are a whole lot less likely to fuck with us if he's following us around." She remarked, hurrying towards the Crimson Caravan place.

Inside, she ran into Ringo, the man she had helped in Goodsprings. She was happy to see that he made it here and refused the rest of the caps he had offered her. They chatted for a moment, just small talk really, and then she asked where Alice McLafferty was. He informed her, and with a friendly hug, they parted ways.

Dealing with McLafferty was easy enough. She seemed willing to buy out Cassidy Caravans, which was good, since it took quite a bit to convince Cass to sell it in the first place. It was burnt to ash, and while money wasn't the only thing in the world that was important, it'd get the woman out of the Mojave outpost, where otherwise she'd drink herself to death. She liked the redhead, she didn't want that. Six would deliver the paperwork as soon as she could.

Alice also wanted Six to run over and deliver some paperwork to Camp McCarran. Since she was heading in that direction anyways, she took the job. She didn't take Ringo's caps from him since he likely needed them more than she did, but she'd take any job that would get her caps since she still did need them."Do you feel up to hoofing it with me?" Six asked Raul as they left the Crimson Caravan compound. She didn't want to drag him along if he didn't want to go, although she wasn't sure where he'd go to wait. With Veronica, maybe?

"I might be an old man, but I think I can make it. Bad neighborhood too. It's probably a good idea if I stuck around. Just my opinion though. If you want me elsewhere, I'll leave." Raul replied, following along and keeping up with her easily enough.

"Hey, it's entirely up to you. I'd feel better with you watching my back, but if you really want to go rest, I'm not gonna complain if you go chill with Veronica for a while." Six replied, pushing open the gate to the compound to let Raul out. She slipped out behind him and shoved the door closed.

The trip to McCarran was uneventful although a couple of times she swore she could feel eyes on her, and was thankful for Raul's company. Sure, not many people respected ghouls or even liked them, but they were less likely to attack someone who had backup.

McCarran was busy, with NCR soldiers hurrying about on duty, but it was easy to find Boone. Well, easy enough to find someone wearing a similar beret and follow him until she found where the snipers were hanging out.

They were inside a tent, Boone with them, and a couple of them looked at her when she entered. It was then she realized that she was still wearing the First Recon beret Boone had given her.

"Friend of yours, Craig?" One of the men sitting around a table spoke, looking at her carefully. She reached up and tugged the beret off, a little embarrassed.

"She's with me, yeah. Six, First Recon Alpha team." Boone said, nodding towards the others. She looked around at the other people in the tent. All of but one had a hunting rifle slung on their back, and all but one wore the familiar red beret. The odd one out was an older looking man, with dark skin and a white mustache. He wore a ranger hat and had what appeared to be a modified cowboy repeater.

"Six? S-she's even got a name l-like ours." One of the smaller snipers, came forward from between the bunks. He was almost impossible to recognize with his face covered and a pair of glasses.

"Uh, no. My name's Caroline. I think. You know what, call me Six. That's fine." She stammered, squeezing the beret tightly in her hands. She wasn't sure why she was so embarrassed. It felt strange.

"I'll call you whatever you want, sweetheart." A female voice spoke up from the sofa and Six turned to look at the woman giving her a lewd look.

"Cool it, corporal." Came a stern voice from the other man at the table. "I apologize, ma'am. Lieutenant Gorobets. Nice to meet you."

"So...I hope I'm not interrupting anything. I just came by to see what Boone was up to." She crept inside the tent a bit more, sliding over so Raul could be a part of the conversation, although he didn't talk all that much to begin with.

"We were just telling Boone about our issues with the Friends. Hoping he'd re-enlist and help us out."

"And he was telling us how that wasn't gonna happen." The man in the ranger hat sighed and leaned back in this chair.

"Well, good for me, I guess. I've gotten used to him looking over my shoulder." Six grinned at the man. He shrugged.

"You don't need me." Boone said. Six felt a flutter in her stomach at the thought that he might go, and she wasn't sure why. He could do what he liked.

"Sure I do. You've saved my life. More than once. You're handy to have around." Six replied. Honestly, she'd let him go if he wanted, but she really did like to have him around.

"But, if you need help with the Fiends, I can probably take some time to help you out." She offered, and the lieutenant leaned forward to look at her.

"You think you can handle it? They're dangerous." Gorobets stared long and hard at her. Six stared right back. She could handle it. She could handle the Legion, she could handle a handful of crazy Fiends drugged up on Psycho or Jet.

"She took down Dead Sea." Boone said, breaking the lieutenant's attention from her. He turned to stare at Boone incredulously.

"I heard we took Nelson, but you mean to tell me that she walked in there and took the bastard out?" Six tried not to take offence to his tone of voice. She was aware that she looked young. Hell, she was only twenty years old. But still, it stung a little.

"Four hundred yards out. Without a scope." Boone continued. Six felt a blush come across her cheeks. It was nice to know that a sniper thought she was a good shot.

"T-that's impressive. I heard you s-saved the hostages too."

"I had help." Six said insistently. She wasn't that good. She couldn't have done it without Boone and Veronica's help. Raul came after, but he was quite handy with the .357 he carried.

"I suppose you could handle the Fiends then, if you have the same help. You should head over to Major Dhatri, he's been asking for help with them." The lieutenant said and Six nodded. She wasn't too anxious to kill more people, but she heard stories about the Fiends.

"Sure, I can do that. Boone, you in?" Six looked over to her sniper, who simply stared back like it was a dumb question. In hindsight, it probably was.

"Not sure I'm up for chasing fiends, boss." Raul said and she turned her attention to him, concerned.

"It's your call. You dealt with those thugs in Freeside easy enough. You might be an old man, but you're still fast as hell." She told him. Raul shrugged.

"If you say so. If it's all the same, I'll go wait with Veronica, keep her company. Hunting fiends is a young man's job." The ghoul replied. Six sighed.

"Be careful on your way back then. I'll come find you after we're done. Shouldn't take too long." She patted the ghoul on the shoulder as he left.

"Looks like its just you and me then." She smiled over at him and tugged on the beret again, making sure that it was settled correctly on her head.

"Be careful with that. If you're as good as Craig says you are, I don't mind you wearing it, but it does make you more of a target." Gorobets advised. Six stopped to think about it for a moment. She hadn't thought of it like that.

"Not anymore than killing Dead Sea did." The man with the Ranger hat said. He was probably right too.

"Fair enough. Good luck with the Fiends." The lieutenant said as the pair walked out of the tent.

* * *

Turns out, she needed the luck. Violet was easy enough, with her and Boone picking off her dogs from a distance until the woman appeared. Two .308 rounds to the chest, one from both their rifles took her down easy enough. When it came down to it though, she couldn't bring herself to cut off the woman's head. Boone took care of it for her, wrapping it in some material he found in the woman's camp and stowing it in his own pack.

They returned to McCarran and settled the bounty on her head with Major Dhatri, and headed out to go take care of Cook-Cook. From what she had been told, he was the one who captured and raped Corporal Betsy, one of the First Recon snipers she had met earlier. She doubted she'd feel so bad about killing this one.

His camp wasn't hard to find, but it was seemingly empty. The only living things around were his pet brahmin. Boone looked around the area with his scope, Six through a pair of binoculars, and it was completely devoid of human life.

"Are they smart enough to set up a trap?" She asked quietly from their perch in a destroyed building. Boone frowned in thought, then gathered up his rifle and stood.

"Sit tight, I'm going to go over to that building there and see if I can see anything." He slung the rifle over his shoulder and climbed down from their spot. She watched him go until he disappeared from her sight, and she turned back to the camp to watch.

Hours passed, and the sun set, and she was starting to get worried about Boone. He was a grown man, sure, and could take care of himself, but what if someone jumped him? Snuck up on him and stabbed him to death? He was pretty aware of his surroundings in general, but it wasn't impossible.

Worry nagged at her for a while before she decided to go look for him. Not the best idea she'd ever had, but he was her friend, damn it, and she wasn't just gonna sit here and wait for someone to come find her while he bled out.

Moving carefully towards the building he indicated, she paused at every sound and looked around. Still nobody around. Or at least there was, until she rounded a corner and ran right into one of the Fiends.

Her hunting rifle was useless at this range, so she dropped it and reached for her pistol, but another sound behind her told her it was too late. Something smacked her hard against the back of her head, stunning her and she dropped to her knees, vision swimming.

"It's another one of those snipers. Cook-cook's gonna love this." Dazed, she felt her pistol holster stripped from her hip and her bag pulled away, and became aware that the strange grating sensation on her knees was them dragging her against the ground.

"Boone!" She shouted as loud as she could, earning herself a kick in the ribs that knocked all the air out of her. With what little thinking she could do, she hoped that he was around to hear her.

Dropped on the ground in front of a roaring fire, she pushed herself up to look around, to take stock of her surroundings. She didn't get much, as someone wrenched both her arms behind her back and began to bind her wrist with a length of rope. She twisted, attempting to throw them off, but a sharp blow to the back of her head that made stars dance across her vision made her lie still again.

"Where's her partner?"

"Not sure, she was by herself. We don't see anyone."

"Keep looking. He's around here somewhere."

She was turned onto her back, and her shoulders burned in protest. She looked up to a dirty man with a mohawk and metal armor.

"If I had to hazard a guess, you're Cook-Cook." Six groaned. She really was hoping Boone was still alive. She survived a bullet to the brain, but she wasn't sure she wanted to see if she could survive whatever this psychopath had in mind.

"That's right. I'm Cook-Cook, bitch. Best not forget it."

If her head didn't hurt so damn much, she would have rolled her eyes. Sure, she was scared, but really? Forget who he was? She was certain she wouldn't forget him from the smell alone.

"Now...where's your partner? Got plans for him." He asked. Six would love to be a smart ass about it, but honestly, she was too scared to. And her head fucking hurt. She couldn't think of something smart to say.

"Probably lining up a shot on your head right now." Was all she could manage. If Boone was alive, she was almost certain that's what he was doing.

Or would he shoot her instead? After his story from last night, she was now slightly worried he'd do that again, although she wasn't worried about herself. No, she was worried about the man's state of mind if he had to do something similar again.

"I bet he is. Why don't we give him something to watch?" Through her leather armor, Six felt him pawing at her and she grimaced. It made her stomach roll.

The sound of a rifle (a very fucking familiar sounding rifle) made Cook-Cook pause. Outside the shell of the building, one of the brahmin groaned and fell to the ground with a heavy thud she could feel. Another shot, and another brahmin fell.

Cook-Cook moved away from her quicker than she thought was possible in that armor. "Queenie? You son of a bitch!" He screamed in rage, charging through the building. Another shot and his rage died with a gurgle. She heard his metal armor crumple to the ground.

Six crawled as best she could towards one of the rusted shelves that leaned against a wall, hoping to find some sort of sharp object she could use to free herself. The rifle continued, one shot after another, with only short pauses that she assumed were the sharpshooter reloading.

Just as soon as it began, it ended, and the night was filled with quiet again. She kept looking for something sharp, but moving made her head spin and she was already incredibly nauseous and was afraid she'd throw up if she kept it up.

Slumping down on the ground, she rested her forehead against the cool dirt, unable to continue on. She'd rest for just a moment, then continue. She had to free herself.

"There you are." Boone said, scaring her very nearly to death. She hadn't heard him approach, and her entire body sagged with relief. She felt tears prick her eyes.

"I don't think I've ever been so glad to see someone before." She said, lifting herself to look at the sniper. His face was filled with worry but softened with relief. He moved to cut her free, drawing a combat knife from his boot and sawing through the thick ropes.

As soon as her hands were free, she couldn't help herself and flung her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. She felt him go completely still but at the moment, she couldn't bring herself to think about what she was doing.

"I'm such a fucking idiot. I shouldn't have moved. I should have waited for you to get back. I was just worried. I'm sorry." She babbled, her words coming in near sobs.

"Hey. Come on, let's get you back to McCarran so a medic can look you over." He said roughly, gently pushing her away from him. She nodded and then groaned when that movement made her want to throw up again.

"It might be a slow trip. They took my pack and all my chems, knocked me in the head a couple of times too. And they took my weapons." She said, standing up with him but still leaning heavily on him.

"I'll come back with First Recon, gather your stuff and take out Driver Nephi. We have to get you to a medic." Boone said, supporting her weight easily. Carefully the two of them made it out of the ruins of South Vegas and towards the safety of Camp McCarran.

* * *

Inside the medical tent at Camp McCarran, with a doctor buzzing about her checking her vitals and giving her pain medication, she relaxed on the cot she was given. She was drowsy, but she wasn't allowed to sleep just yet. The doctor kept checking to make sure she was awake, and she was told this would continue for the next couple of hours while they made sure she wouldn't suffer any serious side effects.

What was it with people wanting to give her brain injuries? A bullet to the brain wasn't enough?

Since there didn't seem to be anything around for her to read (and she doubted she could with a pounding head anyhow) she let her mind wander, She didn't have much to think about, but she did remember the time when Daniel was screwing around by the lake, and it looked like he had slipped and fallen on the rocks and then into the water. She had never seen someone move so fast as several men and women ran into the water to rescue him.

Six sat up so fast the room spun and she had the strong urge to vomit. She remembered something. She didn't know who Daniel was, but she remembered something from her past. Grinning, which certainly was worrying the doctor, she laid back down on the cot to allow her stomach to settle.

Maybe getting cracked in the head with a pool cue wasn't so bad after all.

 


	9. Ace of Spades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey and Arcade bond a bit more and then Mickey plays some cards. Things don't go as usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, next chapter. Brief warning: a bit of slash. I'm sure you saw it coming. Nothing explicit, but its there. If you want the explicit for both romances going on, do let me know. Until then, I'll continue with being vague.

"I…..I appreciate your enthusiasm, Mickey. Really, I do. But….oh, that's lovely." Arcade trailed off with a sigh. Mickey nuzzled Arcade's neck, pressing soft kisses along the tender flesh. He was still sleepy, but as with any pleasure in his life, he moved with intent.

They were back in the motel room in Novac. Goodsprings had been a mostly wasted trip, the doctor there not being able to tell them much. Most of it was medical jargon that went over Mickey's head, but Arcade understood it completely and was just as baffled as the doctor was.

There was no way that Caroline should have been able to survive the wound she received. The doctor had pulled out enough shrapnel for there to be two bullets in her brain. It should have killed her instantly, but it didn't. Instead, she was buried in a grave and dug out by a securitron. Doctor Mitchell didn't understand it. Arcade didn't either.

On their trip, they had learned what Caroline had been up to since she woke up from her wound. Helping people. She helped Goodsprings with a Powder Ganger problem, she did the same with Primm, even installing a new sherriff. Radio New Vegas was constantly talking about her accomplishments.

Now, on their way home, they had decided to stop and spend the night back in Novac. Arcade had invited Mickey, rather shyly, to share the bed. Both had been exhausted, so nothing had happened, much to Mickey's disappointment. But Mickey had woken before Arcade, before the sun too, and had decided to wake the other man by pressing his face into Arcade's neck and suckling on the soft skin there.

"Got a long way to go today, don't we?" Mickey murmured, pressing his lips against Arcade's ear. Mickey grinned as Arcade arched his back, hands grasping at Mickey's shoulders. Discovering a lover's most sensitive spots was always thrilling.

"I...yes. We do. I need to get back to Free - if you stop that I might literally kill you." Mickey tongued the very sensitive flesh underneath Arcade's ear, hand slipping underneath the doctor's shirt and sliding over his heart. Mickey smiled at the rapid rate at which the organ worked in Arcade's chest.

"Doctor, I think you may have a problem." MIckey laughed softly, lifting his lips from Arcade's neck and pressing them to the doctor's lips instead.

"You're a bastard, you know that?" Arcade groaned against Mickey's lips, the doctor's hands winding their way into Mickey's hair. Mickey laughed and pushed away from the doctor, throwing himself out of bed before things go too carried away. It had been like this any time they had a moment of privacy now, and Mickey very much wanted to get home and into his own bed before anything progressed any further.

"No, my parents were married, actually. Well before my conception. Actually, I had an older brother. He died in infancy though. But they were married before that." Mickey turned to Arcade and gave him a cheeky grin.

"I think I really hate you." Arcade sighed, dropping into the mattress. Mickey started at the man for a moment, adoring the flushed cheeks and the dazed blue eyes not hidden by glass.

"Good. Hate me. It'll make the sex even better." Mickey said, reaching for his boots and tugging them on. They did have a lot of ground to cover; he hoped to get to Freeside tonight. He ducked into the bathroom to relieve himself and splash water on his face to chase the rest of the sleep away.

"I'll take your word for it." Arcade said from the other room. Mickey frowned. Really? A man at their age, and he hadn't had angry sex at least once?

"Please, for the love of God, tell me you're not a virgin." MIckey leaned out of the bathroom and stared hard at Arcade, who was leaning over the bed tying the laces on his own boots. Arcade looked up, confused.

"I'm not quite sure how that would be a problem if I was. Care to elaborate?"Arcade asked, standing up and reaching for his coat that he had carelessly tossed to the sofa last night. He shook out the wrinkles and pulled it on, and then buckled on the holster for his plasma defender.

"How old are you?" Mickey replied, returning to the sink. A quick splash to his face and he turned the tap off and dried off with the bottom of his shirt.

"Thirty-five. I fail to see how my age has to do with anything."

"Because I can't believe that you, or anyone, really, reached the ripe old age of thirty-five without experiencing the best that life has to offer." Mickey came out of the bathroom and yawned, looking around the room for anything he might have forgotten. He needn't have worried, as he had really just dropped his pack last night, took off his pistol holster and boots and climbed into bed. He belted his pistol around his hips and lifted his pack onto his shoulders.

"You really think sex is the best that life has to offer?" Arcade asked, lifting his own and glaring at the eyebot sticking out of MIckey's pack. "And do we really have to bring that thing with us?"

"For the last time, yes. I'm giving it to Caroline. She had a little eyebot toy as a kid, I'm hoping it'll trigger some memories for her. What's your problem with it anyway?" Mickey had picked the thing up in Primm after stopping at the Mojave Express office to see what they could tell him about Caroline. It was predictably not a whole lot.

"There's just something about that robot that doesn't seem….all right to me. I'm not saying we shouldn't take it with us, obviously your sister's memories are important. But if it were to fall into Lake Mead and be irreparably damaged….and we threw an EMP grenade in after it…"Arcade followed Mickey out the door.

"Arcade Gannon, terrified of an eyebot. Who would have thought." Mickey laughed. They travelled along the road out of Novac at a good pace. Soon the town disappeared behind them.

"I'm not afraid of it. I just….don't trust it. What if it explodes?" Arcade asked and Mickey noticed he was keeping his distance and realized he had been since picking the thing up. There was something about the eyebot that really freaked Arcade out. It was amusing.

"It's not going to explode. It's probably broken anyways. Caroline is good with electronics, so I'll let her tinker with it, but I bet she can't do anything for it. It's an eyebot, Arcade, not an Enclave trooper in power armor with a gatling laser. Harmless." Mickey shook his head. He was insanely curious as to why Arcade seemed to be freaked out over the thing, and he also didn't miss the look of alarm on the doctor's face at the mention of Enclave.

"Run into many of those?" Arcade said almost cautiously. Mickey decided to pretend he didn't notice Arcade's panic.

"Enclave troopers? Can't say that I have. Ran into a couple of Brotherhood of Steel paladins a few years back though. About took my head off too, but thankfully they were more worried about the crashed vertibird than they were about me." Mickey remarked casually. He actually ran into the paladins far from the Vertibird, but he wanted to see how Arcade handled the mention of another piece of Enclave technology. Looking carefully out of the corner of his eye, he saw Arcade staring at the ground instead of ahead. Curious.

"Well, they're both dangerous, I imagine. Best to steer clear of all of them. And you know, since the Brotherhood of Steel likes most kinds of tech, I think it's in our best interest to ditch the eyebot too." Arcade said after a while. Mickey rolled his eyes.

"The eyebot is staying, Arcade."

"Fine, ignore me. Just don't ask me to reattach your arm after your pet murder machine goes into 'search and destroy' mode." Arcade said and Mickey sighed in exasperation. Truth be told he was really just keeping the thing now to irritate Arcade, but he seemed to be getting hysterical over the thing.

"You sound paranoid, Arcade. It's broken." Mickey stopped walking to focus on his companion, who seemed a bit more twitchy now than he had been.

"Do I?" Arcade said, and then repeated the question quieter, almost as if he was speaking to himself. Mickey approached the doctor, cupping Arcade's face in his hands.

"Don't worry. I won't let the big scary eyebot hurt you." Mickey leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Arcade's lips. It was a gentle, chaste kiss, because anything more would get Mickey distracted from his goal.

"Oh, good. Here I was convinced you were taking me to my untimely demise in a ditch somewhere, robbed of all my belongings."

"Don't count that out yet."

* * *

It was late at night when they arrived at Freeside, but it wasn't quiet. Mickey's watch told him it was after midnight, but he wasn't surprised with the sounds of breaking glass, shouts and dogs barking. It was the sounds he was accustomed to.

After the gate closed behind him, Arcade failed to stifle a yawn, setting Mickey off as well. They were both dragging their feet though, Arcade seemingly reluctant to leave Mickey, and Mickey reluctant to leave Arcade. He liked the doctor (for more than just his looks, he swears) and wanted him to stick around more. If Mickey was a joiner, he'd sign up with the Followers of the Apocalypse just to be around Arcade more, but he didn't think he'd look good in a lab coat. Plus, his area of expertise had nothing to do with science.

"Hey. Come stay with me tonight. Julie won't get any help from you as tired as you are. And I bet my bed is more comfortable than whatever they have you sleeping on." Mickey urged Arcade, giving the doctor a hopeful glance. Mickey liked sleeping next to the doctor, if he was being honest with himself. Mickey liked sleeping next to the doctor, if he was being honest with himself. It had been far too long since he slept next to anyone, at least in a bed, and he was almost unwilling to give up the feeling.

"I...Mickey, I'm actually exhausted. I can't-" Arcade started but Mickey cut him off with a look.

"I'm not asking you to get into my bed and sleep with me. Well. I am. But in the literal sense. I'm just as tired. I couldn't pop your cherry even if I wanted to right now." MIckey grinned, tugging the doctor's lab coat towards his small apartment. Arcade sighed and followed along, his footsteps heavy and tired.

"I'm not actually a virgin, if you really want to know. I've had my share of lovers." Arcade said wearily, but Mickey detected a note of sadness underlying his words. He was really too tired to think about it, so he stored the thought away for later. He wouldn't pry, though. MIckey knew what it was like to lose a lover. He'd lost a few over the years, and it never was easy.

It took him longer than usual to unlock his apartment, which he attributed to the dark and his exhaustion. Inside, he barely managed to get into the door before he dropped his pack. He'd get to in the morning. Or afternoon, whenever he woke up. Arcade shuffled in behind him, closing and locking the door.

"Go ahead and crash, I'm going to shower." Mickey stumbled towards his small bathroom, stripping his clothes off as he went. He really was too tired to care. The water was lukewarm thanks to the solar heater on the roof, but after days on the road, he wasn't about to complain. The soap he used was made by one of the older ladies in Freeside, and Mickey was happy to buy it from her since she was a widow and had little means to support herself in her old age.

It was a quick shower, as he was too tired for anything more, and he stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He expected Arcade to be asleep already, but the other man was sitting on a corner of the bed, elbows on his knees and head resting in his hands. Arcade looked up Mickey and started at his state of undress.

"Oh, come on, Arcade. You're a doctor. You've seen bodies naked before. At least, I hope you have." Mickey went to the cabinet where he haphazardly stored his clothes and dug around in the drawer for a t-shirt to sleep in. He glanced down at the towel and decided some kind of pants would be helpful too.

"I...it's not that. You just have so many scars. I never really saw them before." Arcade stood up and approached Mickey carefully. Mickey turned so his back was against the cabinet. He wasn't afraid of showing any of his scars except those and was used to hiding them from view.

Arcade cautiously reached out and traced a hand across the slim scar that went from Mickey's left collarbone down his pectoral muscle. It was from his early twenties - a practice fight gone wrong. The next one was across his ribs, a jagged scar that bled for days. That happened in an actual fight, against raiders. It had bled for days but thankfully had never gotten infected.

Hands traced lower across the various other scars Mickey didn't even remember getting, finally reaching the towel slung low around his hips. Blue eyes darted up to meet Mickey's. Arcade froze with his hands at the towel.

"I thought you were tired." Mickey breathed, admittedly more than a little turned on. He gripped the t-shirt tightly in one hand, but the other drifted up and caressed the doctor's shoulder, following the curve up to his neck.

"I am." Arcade said and dipped his head, kissing Mickey hesitantly. It was a sweet, gentle kiss that made Mickey and every animal instinct he had cry out for more. But he spent most of his life perfecting his self control, so he was able to keep it locked up. Mostly. He couldn't resist nipping at Arcade's bottom lip.

The doctor swayed on his feet. Mickey reached out and caught him, steadying the clearly exhausted man. Mickey smiled and guided the doctor back to bed, gently stripping him of his coat and shirt.

"I really should shower." Arcade mumbled when Mickey dumped him into the bed. Mickey tugged Arcade's boots off too and dropped him into bed on top of the sheets he hadn't bothered to make up before he left a week ago.

"The sheets have seen worse. Go to sleep, Arcade." Mickey said, returning to his wardrobe with a sigh. He tugged on the t-shirt and found a pair of shorts and slid those on too. He tossed the towel over a chair and followed Arcade into bed.

The doctor rolled over and blinked owlishly at Mickey, which he found oddly adorable. It gave him a familiar feeling in his stomach, which he ignored for now. It was way too soon for that.

"When I was seventeen, I sneaked out after curfew and met up with Jacob. It was the first time I'd kissed anyone. First time for a lot of things. " Arcade said, reaching for Mickey and pulling him closer. Mickey sighed and leaned into the embrace. He missed this. He hadn't slept next to anyone since….well, since before he lost his home.

"What happened to him?" Mickey wrapped his arm around the doctor, not caring that the man was covered in the dust of the road and sweat and whatever else they had come in contact with. He was warm and there and Mickey was very much living in the moment.

"We moved. Did that a lot when I was a kid. Never stayed in one place for very long." Arcade's eyelids drooped and he fought to keep them open. Mickey leaned in and kissed Arcade softly.

"I'll give you another first when you wake up." Mickey murmured, tucking the doctor underneath his chin, wrapping his arms around the man as best he could. Arcade made a sleepy sound against Mickey's chest.

Mickey fell asleep with a warm, happy feeling he hadn't felt for ten years.

* * *

Rolling over in bed, Mickey reached for Arcade. His hands touched cold, empty sheets and he cracked open his eyelids to look around. The room wasn't very big, with the small kitchen and table tucked into the other corner, but it was empty. Mickey felt crushing disappointment until he heard a sound from his bathroom.

Mickey climbed out of bed and moved towards the bathroom and recognized the sound of running water. It had just started, so it must be Arcade taking a shower. Carefully, Mickey eased the door open and peered inside. He could see the shadow of Arcade behind the curtain and briefly debated on whether or not he wanted to scare the doctor.

"I won't be too much longer, if you wanted to grab another one." Arcade's sudden words had Mickey flinching. He was more perceptive than Mickey gave him credit for.

"Take your time. I'm the only one that uses it, really. The guy in the other apartment rarely bathes."Mickey leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. This section of Freeside was mostly abandoned and he leased the apartment from the Kings, which kept anyone undesirable from setting up shop in the area. The only other resident was the man Mickey mentioned, and quite understandably, Mickey didn't do much interacting with him.

"Maybe it's because you steal all his water." Arcade shut the tap off and reached for the greyed towel hanging on a hook just beyond the curtain. The curtain was pulled back a moment later, and Arcade stepped out with the towel wrapped around his waist. Mickey noted that he was avoiding making eye contact and allowed himself a smirk.

"I think he's just too lazy. It's not like he has anyone to impress with his cleanliness anyways." Mickey didn't either, not really, although being clean was a holdover from childhood. They lived on a lake that had relatively clean water, so bathing wasn't hard to do. Here, even with their proximity to Lake Mead, water was harder to come by. A lot of it was also mildly irradiated.

"And I take it you do." Arcade reached for his clothing folded neatly on the counter and frowned when he lifted his dirty t-shirt.

"I do now. Wanna borrow some of mine? Can't promise they'll fit great, but at least they're clean." Mickey's shirts would fit him just fine, but any pants of his might be a bit short. It wasn't often Mickey met someone taller than he was.

"Julie will love that. She has been telling me that I need to get laid." Arcade followed Mickey from the bathroom, clutching the towel around his waist. Mickey found a shirt and a pair of cargo pants that wouldn't be too short on the doctor and turned around.

"Well, if the doctor orders it, I'd be quite happy to fill your prescription." He grinned, purposely dragging his gaze down from Arcade's face and across his bare chest. He was surprisingly in shape for a doctor who spent most of his time in a chair doing research. When he lifted his eyes back up to Arcade's face, he found the doctor with pink cheeks and a half-hearted glare in his eyes.

"I don't think you're qualified to dispense medication of any kind." Arcade reached for the clothing in Mickey's arms but Mickey decided to set them down in one of the open drawers of the cabinet and reached for Arcade.

"Oh, I'm more than qualified." Mickey pulled the doctor against him, cutting off Arcade's squawk of surprise with a rough, demanding kiss that was more teeth and tongue than it was lips. Arcade recovered nicely though, answering Mickey's ever increasing hunger for the blond doctor, hands fisting in Mickey's hair. Mickey allowed his hands to move from shoulders down a chest with a fine dusting of hair, just as pale as on Arcade's head, savoring the smooth skin untouched by the scars that littered Mickey's.

When Mickey reached the towel bunched at Arcade's waist, he realized that the only thing keeping the towel up was their hips pressed together, but he was loathe to even move an inch away to tug the offending piece of cloth.

"Stop me now or I'm going to take you to my bed and you won't leave it until I'm done with you." Mickey breathed against Arcade's ear, grinning viciously at the delicious shudder that ran up Arcade's spine.

"Stop asking and just do it already." Arcade muttered impatiently. Mickey obliged, roughly shoving the doctor towards the bed.

* * *

Mickey whistled cheerfully as he settled in at his usual table at the Tops, his stack of chips cradled carefully in one hand. Unfortunately Mickey couldn't keep Arcade in bed all day, as much as he would have liked. The doctor had research he had to finish, and Mickey was itching to play cards again. Well, he was really just itching to see Caroline, but cards would keep him busy until she came around.

He dropped his stack of chips on the table and pushed ten of them forward as he was dealt his cards. Blackjack was his game, and he was exceptionally good at it.

His first round went well, with a king and a 10 of diamonds giving him a win. The next few rounds went the same, and he was quickly winning his caps back and then some. He gradually increased his bets and his luck held out. Soon he had a neat pile of chips beside him. He was always careful not to win too many caps at a time, because the casino liked their caps just where they were, but he bounced around to the other casinos too and was able to keep them from throwing him out so far.

As he played, he listened to the conversation of the other players. Sometimes he would participate, but he wanted to find out what went on since he was gone.

"When'd that happen? I didn't hear anything about it?"

"Just this morning! Strolled right up to the securitron outside, and it opened up and let her in. Just the First Recon girl though. The others had to wait outside, but after a while, they went in too! Crazy."

"Did they ever come out?"

"Oh yeah, they did. From what I hear, they're going in and out as they please."

"What the hell. I want to go into the Lucky 38."

"Ha! Fat chance. You've got a better chance of getting into bed with Benny."

"Everyone has a chance of getting into bed with Benny."

Mickey looked surreptitiously over his shoulder at the two women behind him at another blackjack table. Their conversation, probably louder than they wanted, told him two things. One, someone had gotten into the Lucky 38, which as far as he knew had never happened before. Mr. House never let anyone in, preferring to communicate through his securitrons. Two, there was someone around named Benny.

Scooping up his chips and tucking them into a pack, he moved over to the other table and sat down beside the two women. With a charming smile, he leaned on the table and looked over towards them.

"Hey, I couldn't help but hear your conversation. I'm not really from around here, could you tell me more about Benny?"

"Hey's only the most handsome guy at the Tops." The women in the green dress fanned herself with her hand. Mickey raised his eyebrows in feigned interest. He couldn't care less if the guy was good looking.

"Oh please, Emily. He's not that great looking. But he is the head of the Chairmen here. Everyone knows that. He just got back from some trip too, or so I hear. Swank, over there at the front desk, told me." Her friend, this woman in a pink dress, cast a dreamy look towards Mickey. "Swank tells me all kinds of things. I'd be happy to tell you more."

Mickey reached over and trailed his fingers up her arm. If he was honest with himself, she wasn't really his type, as he recently discovered he loved blondes, but he didn't mind putting on an act.

"Tell me all you'd like." He winked and leaned on his arms, doing his best to look interested.

"Ugh. I'm gonna go get another drink." Green dress got up and walked away. The woman in pink kept playing, and Mickey decided to play too, before the dealer got upset at him for taking up a seat. He kept his bet low in case he wasn't able to keep his concentration on the game.

"Don't mind her. Anyhow. Swank and I are kind of a thing, so he tells me everything. Benny just got back from some trip. He was looking for a courier. Not sure for what, but he just got back. I saw him come in here a few days ago, and he went straight up to his room and hasn't left in a few days. Oh, shit. I suck at this game." She sighed as she lost a round and Mickey won his with a natural 21. He chewed the inside of his lip a little as he thought about his next move.

He obviously couldn't go up to Benny's suite. There's no way he'd get past the number of guards that were undoubtedly on the floor. He'd have to think of another way to get up there. And while he could certainly kill Benny with his bare hands, he'd prefer to go armed. It was just easier.

"Could you give me a tip? You seem to be pretty good." The woman's words were laced with innuendo, but Mickey didn't have time to play this game out longer.

"I've actually got to go, but I'll do my best next time, beautiful." Mickey winked and pulled his chips from the table. She sighed dramatically as he left. Mickey stopped by the cashier to trade his chips for caps. He had over five hundred from tonight's games, which would have him sitting pretty for a while. Breezing out of the Tops, he tucked his hands in his pockets and made his way towards the gate to Freeside.

In Freeside, he found himself wishing that he was armed. It'd hardly be the first time he had killed someone with his bare hands, he didn't like to get that close, especially with the amount of caps he was carrying. He rarely, if ever, brought a gun to the Strip. He didn't like the bouncers taking his weapons, especially since his pistol was a gift from his father.

He passed the Old Mormon Fort and contemplated stopping into see Arcade, but he really wanted to get home and hide his caps. He'd go in the morning and bother the doctor. He wanted a round two with Arcade, which he was hoping would happen soon.

Mickey rounded the corner and was greeted by four men, three of which had impressive knives. The other one held a pistol, and it was aiming right at him.

"Hey fellas. Good night for a stroll." Mickey said, throwing his hands up and internally cursing his focus tonight. Normally they would have never gotten the drop on him.

"Caps. Now." The man waved the gun at him. Mickey sighed. Normally he was left alone, but he was also normally obviously armed.

"Sure. No problem." Mickey took a couple cautious steps towards the group, bringing him within arm's reach of the nearest man with the knife. Carefully, he reached down towards his pockets. As all their eyes dropped with his hands, Mickey lunged, grabbing the wrist of the man and twisting him, forcing him to drop the knife.

Mickey twisted his torso, pulling the man in front of him to use as a shield as the man with the gun opened fire. Mickey tossed the body towards the other two and took a step and turned, kicking the gun from the man's hand and across the street. Spinning around again, he scooped up the knife and when his turn was completed, he flipped the knife in his hand and threw it handle first towards the man who used to have the gun. It lodged in his throat and he went down gurgling.

"Oh shit!" One of the thugs scrambled up from the ground and bolted, his knife clattering to the ground as he ran. The other seemed to be braver and swung wildly towards Mickey with his knife. Mickey was able to jump out of the way. He ducked under another swing and reached up and grabbed the arm. Mickey kicked out one of the thug's knees and the man howled in pain and lurched forward.

Mickey twisted the man's arm around so the thug fell onto his own knife, and the force of the man falling forward knocked Mickey onto his back. He felt the warmth of the man's blood spilling onto his shirt.

He also felt an unfortunately familiar cold pain of a blade sliding just underneath his ribs.

Mickey groaned and shoved the dying man off him and looked down to see the handle of a switchblade sticking out of his torso. Looks like he was going to see Arcade sooner than later.

Gripping the handle of the blade, he tugged it free with a painful gasp and tossed it aside. Blood welled up and covered his shirt, and Mickey pressed his hand to it. He'd had worse wounds, but he also had someone around to patch him up immediately.

He stumbled to his feet and tried to ignore the blood welling over his fingers. The Mormon Fort wasn't far, surely he could make it there. He had made it there with head wounds before. Still, he was bleeding a lot.

A few more steps and he realized he was bleeding way more than he should have. How long was that blade? It must have nicked something important. Pain was radiating out from the wound, making it hard to concentrate but he knew that he had to get to someone.

He made it down the street before he started to get dizzy and the pain started to become unbearable. He knew that shock would be coming soon and he wouldn't feel the pain, so for now it was a good sign. He could see the walls of the Fort and smiled, continuing his wavering steps, until he fell to his knees with his head spinning.

"Shit. C'mon Rosales, you've survived worse. Legion raids, Ranger training, Mirelurks...you can make it." He muttered to himself, pushing himself back up on his feet. He made it another few steps before falling again.

This time, he couldn't get himself back up. He felt cold now, and tired. But still in pain. Looks like the shock wasn't coming just yet, but he wasn't going anywhere.

Mickey lay in the street, staring up at whatever stars were visible and hoped that someone would find him soon. He'd pray, but he wasn't really a praying man.

He heard the heavy gate of the Fort open and sighed in relief. He managed to sit up and saw two people coming towards him. He waved, hoping that they could see him. It used more of his rapidly fading energy than he anticipated, and he dropped back again with a sigh.

"Holy shit, is he okay?" A feminine voice said, and he heard two sets of footsteps hurrying towards him. His vision started to grey, but he noticed a woman wearing a set of brown robes kneel down beside him.

"He's not looking so good. Help me get him up, he needs a doctor." A male voice this time, rough, and if Mickey had complete control of his senses, he'd say the woman's companion was a ghoul.

"Yeah, no shit. Oh my god he's huge." The woman groaned as she lifted Mickey. He bit back a groan of his own and grabbed a handful of the woman's robe.

"If it's alright with the two of you, I'm going to pass out now." Mickey said and then his world went black as he lost consciousness.


	10. Rooster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Came back and fixed a few errors I found and also learned it is a terrible idea to post chapters at four in the morning after having very little sleep the night before. There are probably still a few typos and things but I do what I can.

“I wish I had more answers for you, but I really don’t know how you survived. I’m hardly an expert on the brain, but it should have killed you.”

Six was sitting in a chair inside the Old Mormon Fort while Arcade Gannon paced in front of her. She tapped her foot impatiently, wishing he had more good news for her.

“I don’t care about that. I want to know why another knock to the head triggered a memory for me. It was fragmented, and I couldn’t tell you all of what happened.” Six followed the man’s path with her eyes and then looked over to Boone who was standing inside the tent with her, leaning against the desk. Raul was by the tent flap and Veronica was seated beside Six on the ground. The small tent was actually quite crowded.

“I really don’t know. The brain is a very complex organ and even before the War not a lot was known about it.” Arcade paused his pacing. Six frowned at him.

“While it’s a good thing that you’re starting to remember some things, I’d recommend against any more knocks to the head. Just my professional opinion though.” He moved to his desk, carefully keeping out of Boone’s space, and started poking through his papers.

“I actually know a specialist who might be able to tell you more, but he’s actually all the way in Shady Sands. I can send him a message and see if he can make sense of it, but it might be a while.” He lifted a paper, looked it over briefly, shook his head and moved on to another one.

“I’m still feeling a little achey. Mind if I head on to back to the 38 and get rest?” Veronica asked in the silence. Six looked down at her and shrugged.

“If you need to. Raul, Boone, you want to walk her back?” Six asked the other two men as Veronica climbed to her feet. The woman’s face was pinched with pain, and Six wished she had noticed earlier. She was still bruised from her beating by super mutants and she had refused serious medication because she insisted that others needed it more.

“I’ll do it, Boss. It’ll make me feel better to know you have someone walking you back too.” Raul offered. Six resisted rolling her eyes, knowing he was just concerned for her. But honestly, she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

“Alright well I’ll be back in a little bit. Get some sleep and we’ll discuss some plans in the morning over breakfast.” Six watched them go and then turned her attention back to Arcade.

“If you could do that, I’d be very grateful. If you have the time though, I’m not sure how busy you are.” Six told the doctor, who was still shuffling through his papers. Doctors were busy people, right? I mean, he was travelling with that brother of hers….come to think of it, why were they travelling together? And where was he now?

“Oh, I just do research around here. Well, mostly. Sometimes we are short-handed.” Arcade replied, setting a stack of paper aside. Six noticed that his desk was littered with books and papers. It was kind of obvious now.

“What kind of research do you do?” She asked curiously. She knew the Followers were all about knowledge and education of all kinds, but she had always figured that most of that information had been destroyed in the war.

“Oh, you know. Finding alternative treatments for common illnesses and injuries. Stimpaks out of barrel cacti and other fantastic improbabilities. As far as fruitless wastes of time go, it's quite noble in its aims.” Arcade stopped his search through his papers and stepped away from the desk to look at her again. She smiled at his sarcasm and wondered if she could convince him to come away from his research and travel with her. Having a doctor around would be a good thing.

“You don’t sound too enthusiastic about it.” Boone said in response. Arcade shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m enthusiastic about helping people, but nihil novi sub sole.” He replied. Six frowned. What the hell did he just say? It certainly wasn’t English.

“Nihi-what?” She asked, completely confused. She hadn’t heard anything like that before. At least, not since she woke up.

“Isn’t that the language the Legion speaks?” Boone asked, suspicion in his voice. Arcade rolled his eyes.

“Caesar can cite Cato to suit his purpose. Many people have spoken Latin and some of them were quite pleasant. It’s unfortunate that -” Arcade’s sentence was cut off by a woman outside the tent shouting for help. Six stood up from her chair immediately, recognizing the voice.

“That’s Veronica.” She automatically reached down and thumbed the safety catch off her pistol holster but the lack of gunfire kept her from drawing it. Boone and Arcade followed.

Raul and Veronica were struggling through the gate with a body between them, and a few of the guards had moved from their posts to help.

“You stupid bastard.” Arcade said when they got closer, his voice suddenly thick with emotion. Six recognized the man they gently laid on the ground. It was Mickey, the guy who was supposed to be her brother. And he was covered in blood.

“He’s still alive. At least, he was a minute ago. He passed out on us.” Veronica explained, stepping back as Arcade knelt down by the unconscious man. Arcade lifted Mickey’s arm and felt at his wrist for a moment before frowning and reaching up for his neck.

“I gave him a stimpack because I felt like he was absolutely going to die otherwise, but it was all I had.” Veronica looked worried, twisting her hands together. The sleeve of her robe was covered in blood. “He’s bleeding so much.”

“Arcade? What’s going on?” Six looked over at the new voice and saw a woman with wild hair approaching. She was wearing a coat similar to Arcade’s and Six assumed she was another doctor. “Oh, not again, Mickey.” She groaned and knelt down next to Arcade.

“Kevin, go wake up Doctor Kitchens, we’ll need her help. You in the beret, get over here. Help us lift him into the surgery tent. Carefully.” The woman ordered, a pair of scissors appearing in her hand. She cut off the blood-soaked shirt with practiced ease.

Six wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be feeling at this moment, but she felt concerned. It was probably a natural human reaction to seeing someone injured like he was. She wondered if she’d feel different if she could actually remember who he was.

Boone helped them lift Mickey and she followed at a distance, watching them take him into a wide tent. Boone came out a moment after, closing the tent flap behind him. He didn’t seem bothered, but as a soldier he was probably used to seeing stuff like this.

Six didn’t like seeing it happen to people she knew. Or people she was supposed to know.

A small blonde doctor brushed past them, the woman ducking into the surgery tent with an armful of supplies. It was probably Doctor Kitchens.

“I hope he’s alright.” Six said after a long while. She considered staying here to see how he was, but she didn’t know how long it would take, and she was also worried about Veronica.

“Followers doctors are some of the best you can find. It’s what they do.” Raul said softly, patting the woman on the shoulder.

“He’s right. A lot of the NCR medics are trained by the Followers doctors. Your brother is in good hands.” Boone said. Two pairs of eyes looked at Six.

“He’s your brother? Oh man, that sucks. Caroline, I’m sorry.” Veronica sad and tried to reach out to give Six a hug. Six stopped her.

“I appreciate it, but lets wait until you’re cleaned up, alright?” Six said, pointing at the woman’s bloody robe. She had precious little clothing already, she didn’t want to stain what she had with blood.

“Yeah, good plan.”

"Lets get back to the 38. I’ll come in the morning and check on him. You can get cleaned up and rest.” Six threw her arm around the woman, careful to avoid the bloody part of her clothing, and guided her away from the tent.

Outside the gates of the fort, Boone unslung his rifle and held it in his hands ready for him to use. Six also drew her 10mm pistol for the same reason. She wasn’t planning on being the next victim of whoever stabbed Mickey. Thankfully though, the walk to the Strip gate was uneventful, and they holstered their weapons so the securitrons didn’t bark at them for being armed.

Inside the Lucky 38, Veronica had stripped herself of her robe and had donned some of Six’s spare clothing while she cleaned her own in the bathtub. Raul had gone to sleep, claiming it was well past that old man’s bed time.

Six found herself sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle of scotch sitting in front of her. It had been sitting in the refrigerator and while it was obviously a Pre-War bottle, it was still sealed. She figured it was fine, since it was alcohol. She had filled a glass with it and was sipping at it, staring at the opposite wall. The wallpaper in here was really ugly and it made it too dark.

She should be feeling upset, right? Worried about Mickey. She had no reason not to believe he was her brother, but then again, she had no reason to believe him either. She wasn’t sure if she should do something about it. And why had Arcade seem so broken up over it? He was a doctor, surely he’d seen things like that before. Maybe they were friends.

Boone entered the kitchen and sat down at the table, on the opposite end. She slid the bottle over to him and he caught it easily and then leaned backwards to snag a cup from the shelf behind him. Once his was filled, she lifted her cup in a silent salute and took another sip.

The bottle was passed back and forth between the two of them for a while. Six began to fiddle with her Pip-Boy and realized that it was now four in the morning. She yawned and stood up from the table, gripping it tightly as she swayed.

"You didn’t have to sit up with me, you know.” She told Boone, who was also standing. He shrugged and slid his chair back under the table. She didn’t bother, as she’d just get up in a few hours anyway to get breakfast and sit in the same spot.

“You didn’t have to listen to me the other night.” He replied and she frowned. Of course she didn’t HAVE to, but she wanted to. Its what friends did for each other.

“It’s what friends do, right?” She asked him. He cocked his head meaningfully and then left the room. Six meant to follow, but she stopped to think for a second.

Did that mean he considered her a friend?

* * *

 

The next morning came, cold even for the temperature controlled suite at the Lucky 38. Six found herself walking with Boone back to the Follower’s camp, bundled up to ward off the early morning chill. Boone wore a jacket over his usual t-shirt, but even with the added bulk, he still appeared rail thin. She made a note to talk to him about eating properly as well.

During the short walk to the Follower’s camp, she was again assaulted by how terrible Freeside was. She didn’t know much about how things were, but with the children running in the streets, running around bodies just lying there, she could guess. She passed drug addicts begging for caps or more chems and a few shadier looking people who looked like they were more than willing to jump her had she not had her sniper shadowing her.

They probably would have attacked the both of them had they not been so openly armed, both with hunting rifles slung across their backs, and Six with a recently acquired .357 revolver in place of the machete Boone wore.

Inside the fort, there wasn’t much activity. It was still early morning, so many of the doctors not on duty were asleep. Some of the guards were milling about, eating their breakfasts or chatting with each other. Six ignored them and went looking for any doctor on duty.

She found Arcade sitting at his desk with what appeared to be an untouched cup of coffee. He was slumped in a chair and for a brief moment, Six thought he was dead, thanks to how absolutely lifeless he looked. And then he sighed.

“Um...Doctor Gannon?” Six asked carefully and he started. He turned to look at her and sighed again, scrubbing his face with his hands.

“He’s alive. Be sure to to let your friend know that her stimpack saved his life. I’m not sure when he’ll be awake though, so I don’t know when he’ll be able to answer your questions. He’s in the next tent over resting if you want to see him, but I’ve found sleeping men horribly boring conversationalists.” Arcade told her. She noticed his eyes, normally a very pretty shade of blue, were reddened and glazed. He had been up all night by the looks of it.

“I just wanted to know if he was okay. You look exhausted.” Six said to him and he gave a short laugh.

“He’s kept me up later than I should be on more than one night now. I shouldn’t be surprised anymore.” Arcade shook his head and stood up. Six had to catch him as he wavered and almost fell over.

“You need to lay down, Doctor.”Six guided him back into his chair, where he slumped wearily. Arcade rubbed his face again and reached for his coffee, drinking it in large gulps. He finished the mug and set it aside.

“I’ll sleep when I know he’s alright. He’s my patient.” Arcade insisted, trying to get up again. Six pushed him back down in the chair. There were plenty of doctors around, they could keep an eye on Mickey. This doctor needed sleep.

“I’m willing to bet that he’s more than that. There are other doctors around here, they can watch him until you get some rest.” Six looked around and found a cot set up at the end of the tent with a blanket piled at the end. She looked up at Boone and nodded towards the bed. Arcade was twice her size, so she’d need a little help getting him over there.

“Is it that obvious?” Arcade sighed, allowing himself to be lifted from his chair and guided towards the bed. Six smirked as he collapsed onto the cot.

“No, but the big hickey on your neck is a big clue.” Six eyed the red and purple mark poking out from underneath his collar. Arcade lifted a hand to his neck and touched the mark, a smile lifting his lips.

“I’m gonna kill him for this.” He murmured and shortly after his eyes fluttered closed and he fell asleep. Six left the tent, Boone behind her, and moved on to the next one. She wanted to see for her own eyes just how Mickey Rosales was doing.

She found him lying on a mattress in the next tent, a blanket tucked around him. He was pale, but his face was calm in his sleep. Six knelt down beside him and studied his features. She had to admit to herself that they did look similar. And now, while he was sleeping, she felt a sense of familiarity.

She wasn’t sure if she was still Caroline Rosales, but Mickey Rosales was indeed her brother. She believed that now, even if she didn’t actually know it.

Her Pip-Boy crackled to life, a message from a woman coming through the speakers and she hurried to kill the sound, turning the volume knob all the way down so she didn’t disturb him. Ducking out of the tent, she lifted her arm and replayed the message from the beginning. 

 

> _Has your life taken a turn? Do troubles beset you? Has fortune left you behind? If so, the Sierra Madre Casino, in all its glory, is inviting you to begin again. Come to a place where wealth, excitement and intrigue await around every corner. Stroll along the winding streets of our beautiful resort, make new friends, or rekindle old flames. Let your eyes take in the luxurious expanse of the open desert under clear star-lit skies. Gaze straight on into the sunset from our villa rooftops. Countless diversions await: Gamble in our casino, take in the theater, or stay in one of our exclusive executive suites that will shelter you and cater to your every whim. So if life's worries have weighed you down, if you need an escape from your troubles, or if you just need an opportunity to begin again, join us, let go, and leave the world behind at the Sierra Madre grand opening this October... We'll be waiting._

Six frowned at the message. the Sierra Madre casino? It wasn’t one she had heard of. She was wondering why she was just picking up the broadcast now, and listened to the message again as it repeated.

“Have you ever heard of this place? Sierra Madre?” She asked Boone after switching off the radio. She recorded the message just in case the broadcast stopped.

“I’ve seen Old World posters, heard a few stories about prospectors finding it, but I’ve never seen any actual proof of it. It’s probably an old Pre-War message.” Boone replied with a shrug. She sighed and put it out of her mind for now. She had more important things to worry about than some old Pre-War casino. She had casinos enough to deal with right now. Benny was holed up in the Tops, and Veronica had come back from her exploration of the Strip with some troubling rumors about Gomorrah and the Ultra Luxe.

“It’s not important. Feel like taking a trip with me? I need to head back to the Mojave outpost. We can leave Vee and Raul here, let her recover a bit more. Who knows, maybe we’ll run into Legionaries.” She said, moving back into the tent to check on her brother one more time. Boone gave her a smirk, something she didn’t see often (or at all) from the man.

“Running into Legionaries is never a good thing.” Mickey’s eyes fluttered open as he spoke  and she took a step back, startled, before recovering.

“Go get a doctor.” She told Boone and then turned back to Mickey, kneeling down next to the mattress he rested on. Mickey smiled weakly at her, reaching up to touch her arm. She smiled back at him and rested her hand over his.

“Didn’t realize you were in town.” He said and she shrugged at him. She hadn’t expected him to be here, thinking he’d still be off doing whatever he did. She was going to start looking for him eventually, after she got everything settled with her courier job.

“Had to talk to Mr. House about the chip I was supposed to deliver. I was going to come find you after I returned it.” She settled herself on the ground next to him, lifting the strap of her hunting rifle over her shoulder to set it on the ground next to her. “But you had to go and get yourself stabbed and ruined all my plans.”

Mickey laughed and then groaned in pain, moving his arms to clutch his stomach. She frowned at him.

“Yeah, looks like we both are good at getting stupid injuries. Do you remember anything?” Mickey tried to lift himself up on his elbows, but judging by the pinched look on his face, he was in an incredible amount of pain. She wasn’t sure if she should give him any of the Med-X sitting on a nearby table, so instead she tried to distract him with conversation.

“A few things, actually. Not much, just little pieces. Nothing solid. I...well, I remember this one time, I think I was eight or nine, and we were out by a lake. Playing by these rocks, and you kept yelling at me not to climb on them. And then this guy, Daniel, I think. I’m not sure who he is. But he climbed up on top of them, insisting that it was perfectly safe. And then he slipped and fell, and everyone panicked. There must have been ten people jumping into the lake to go get him, because it looked like he hit his head.” Six laughed then, remembering the event much more

clearly every time she thought about it. It was like that with the few things she could remember.

“But the bastard just stands up and laughs, like nothing had happened. Turns out, he had just barely missed cracking his skull open.” Mickey finished her story and she smiled at him.

“Yeah. I seem to remember you were one of the people panicking.” Six poked him in the arm. Mickey grinned at her and rolled his eyes.

“Who is Daniel anyways? Most of what I remember involves him in some way.” She asked and Mickey’s smile faded. She almost regretted asking the question when a sad look flashed on his face.

"He was my….our best friend. We grew up together. He taught you how to forage in the desert. Had a knack for it. He was like another brother to you.” Mickey told her and Six fiddled with the hem of her jacket while she thought. She wished she could remember more, but it was just small things like Daniel teaching her to skip rocks or walking along the shoreline with both Daniel and Mickey, although she couldn’t remember what they had been talking about.

“What happened to him?” Six asked, genuinely curious. She figured there was more about their relationship but she didn’t pry for now, hoping that the memories would come back in time.

“When the Legion raided Havasu, they killed him. It was quick, he didn’t suffer. Small mercy.” Mickey looked at the tent ceiling, crossing his arms over his stomach. Six sighed.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could remember more.” She said and turned around when she heard footsteps behind her. Boone had returned with a doctor and she scrambled out of the way. It was Doctor Kitchens and she was quick and efficient in her checkup and administered a dose of Med-X at his request.

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll come back in time.” Mickey sighed sleepily, the medication taking effect quickly. Six watched him fall asleep.

“He’ll be out for the next few hours. But he’s recovering nicely and a few more doses of stimpacks will have him on his feet in a day or two. He’ll have to take it easy, of course.” Doctor Kitchens told Six. She thanked the woman for her time and let her go tend to her other patients.

“Lets go get our things, and we’ll take that trip and be back in time for his release.” She said to Boone, picking up her rifle and slinging it over her shoulder. He nodded and the two left the Fort side by side.

* * *

“I see two over by the ridge and another one in the tent.”

“Yeah, I see them. There’s another pair by the hostages, just behind the tent.”

“Wind is minimal. Range is 600 yards. Your scope should be zeroed in. Take the shot when you’re ready.”

Six stared at the Legionary through the new scope on her hunting rifle. She lined up the crosshairs on a stationary target and controlled her breathing. Lifting her finger from the trigger guard, she wrapped her finger around the trigger and squeezed. **  
**

Six hundred yards out, a Legionary fell to the ground when the .308 round pierced his skull. She lined up another shot as the other Legionaries moved to investigate their fallen comrade and squeezed the trigger again.

Beside her, Boone’s rifle cracked loudly twice and through her own scope, she saw another two Legionaries drop to the ground, missing the better part of their skulls. Headshots were harder for her, but Boone excelled at making that difficult shot. She took out the last Legionary with a shot to his torso, the force of the bullet spinning him around before he fell.

 “Nice work.” Boone grunted, scanning through the rest of the camp for any more Legionaries. She kept looking too, ignoring the growing ache in her neck to make sure the area was secure. But no one else showed up for a long while. Finally Boone stood and she followed his movements.

“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.” She flashed a sassy smirk his way before slinging her rifle over her shoulder. She upholstered her pistol and moved towards the camp. She felt rather proud of herself, happy that one of NCR’s best recognized her talent with a rifle.

At the camp, they freed two Powder Ganger prisoners. Normally, she’d be opposed to letting convicts go, but they had been through enough for one lifetime. They hurried off without saying much. She looted what she could, snatching up more Legion coin and some weapons she stripped for useful parts. A few she tucked into her pack to sell for caps later

She was slightly disappointed she didn’t find any of the men wearing fox heads. Vulpes Inculta still gave her nightmares and she would have felt better about killing him.

“Feel any better?” Six asked when they found themselves along the road again. Boone looked over at her, a vicious smile on his face. She grinned back at him.

“Too bad there weren’t more of them.” He commented. She shrugged. Honestly, she didn’t mind that she didn’t need to kill any more, but at the same time, she wanted to sate Boone’s bloodlust for the Legion. She had a feeling though, that they’d have to take them all out for Boone’s soul to be settled.

That night the two of them made camp inside a deserted farmhouse, taking shelter from the cold wind that had picked up. They made a fire in the fireplace from the broken bits of furniture in the house and while it was hardly the Lucky 38’s presidential suite, it was cozy enough for the night.

“Here, finish this. I can’t eat anymore.” Six passed over what was left of the brahmin stew they put together from the foodstuffs they had picked up throughout the day. Boone looked at her questioningly. She shoved the bowl farther towards him.

“Eat. C’mon, you’re skinnier than I am.” She insisted. He picked up the bowl and finished what was left and she smiled happily at him. She was glad to see he was eating, and she’d make sure she passed whatever food she couldn’t eat to him.

“I probably haven’t taken care of myself like I should have.” He muttered, mostly to himself. She shrugged at him.

“That’s what you have me for. We’re friends. I care about you.” She cleared their dishes when he was done, scraping them out as best she could. The water pump was outside so she’d rinse them in the morning. For now, she set them away on a shelf and laid out her blankets as close to the fire as she could.

“You really shouldn’t.” Boone sighed, setting out his bedroll. Six rolled her eyes at that.

“Haven’t found a way to kill me yet.” She replied, laying down and wrapping her blanket around her tightly.

“You might not want to be my friend if you’ve known what I’ve done.” Boone retorted, his voice a little irritated. Six groaned in exasperation.

“Did you shoot me in the head?”

“No.”

“Are you a secret rapist?”

“No.”

“Did you single handedly cause the Great War?”

“Of course not.”

“Then I don’t give a shit what you’ve done, Craig. It’s in the past, and try as we might, we can’t change it. So deal with it. I’m your friend.” Six shook her head and rolled onto her side to look at the sniper.

“Yeah. Guess so.” He murmured, lacing his fingers behind his head.

“One day though, you’re going to tell me what’s bothering you so much. Get it off your chest.” She said  and he froze.

“I….I can’t talk about it right now.” He said after a long moment of silence.

“I’m not asking you to. Just….one day. One day you can sit me down and tell me all of the things that seem to make you think you’ve got bad things coming to those around you.” Six rolled back over and settled herself in her blankets again.

“Now, I’m going to go to sleep and hope I don’t have nightmares again. I woke up Veronica last night.” Six lifted her Pip-Boy to her face and made sure it was muted.  She didn’t want the radio to startle her awake as it had done a few times before.

“What do you have nightmares about?” Boone asked and Six started chewing on her lip.

“Mostly the Legion, although more recently the Fiends. Cook-Cook. He’s dead now, but he isn’t in my dreams. It’s….not pleasant.” She shivered at the memory of the Fiend’s hands pawing at her. In her nightmares, it went farther than that.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“What the fuck are you apologizing for? I’m the one who moved.” She sat up and stared over at him. Not once did she ever blame him for what happened while taking out the Fiends. Her getting captured was entirely her fault.

“I should have stuck by you. I’m your partner. I should have-”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Craig. Stop beating yourself up over shit you can’t control.” Six insisted. He sighed and she watched him turn and stare out the window.

“Carla said the same thing to me once.”

“She sounds like she was a smart woman.” Six closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of the Wasteland. She wanted to stay up and ask Boone more about his wife, but she was honestly quite tired. She wasn’t sure how much more she was going to get out of him anyways. He was hardly chatty on the best of days.

“Why are you calling me Craig?” Boone asked, just as she was dozing off. She sighed sleepily and rolled over, pulling her blankets up and tucking them under her chin.

“ It’s your name, isn’t it? Goodnight.” She murmured, settling into sleep.

“Goodnight, Caroline.”


	11. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcade discovers Mickey isn't a good patient. He also learns a deep secret about Mickey's past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm not completely happy with this chapter, but I really felt like I was leaving you guys hanging. I blame Captain America: The Winter Soldier (and the feels associated with that movie) and video games for the delay. Feel free to send me a message and yell at me if I'm taking too long for your liking. Also, I'm posting this at an ungodly hour again, so there are probably mistakes I didn't catch.

Mickey woke up with the worst case of dry mouth he had ever experienced. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought he was incredibly hungover. Unfortunately, he very clearly remembered being stabbed. It was hardly the first time something similar had happened.

“Are you feeling okay?” Mickey looked over and found Arcade standing at the door, a clipboard in his hands. Mickey smiled, happy to see the doctor. He pushed himself into a sitting position and watched Arcade move towards him.

“Hurts, but I’ve had worse.” Mickey touched his stomach where it was bandaged, making a note to remove them later to look at how bad it actually was. He didn’t think Arcade would approve of it. Probably get all irritated and complain about bacteria or infections or something.

“Those scars of yours certainly say that you have. I guess this is one more to add to the collection. “ Arcade said, picking up Mickey’s wrist and pressing two fingers against the pulse point there. He then looked at his watch for a moment, and then wrote a note down on his clipboard.

“They can have it back. Not sure I like the way of going about getting the collection.” Mickey looked down at his torso and the myriad of scars crossing it. He wasn’t a big fan of pain, not that anyone was.

“Although they do get me laid, so I guess they’re not all bad.” Mickey smirked up at Arcade who just rolled his eyes.

“You realize that the blade you were stabbed with nicked a few of your internal organs, right? You would have bled out had you not been found when you did.” Arcade said, more than a little harshly. Mickey guessed that the man didn’t find injuries all that funny. In most cases, Mickey didn’t either. Being a smartass was just Mickey’s default mode of communication.

“Who found me, by the way? I remember a woman and a ghoul. At least I think it was a ghoul. Maybe a long time smoker. I couldn’t tell.” Mickey asked, moving into a more comfortable position. He wished for something to rest his back on, as that would be more comfortable overall.

Mickey wondered if he could convince Arcade to help him home, back to his own bed.

“Friends of your sister, actually. The woman who found you had a stimpack on her. Saved your life. You likely would have bled out otherwise. Speaking of, you need to drink this.” Arcade produced a bottle of purified water from his pocket and handed it over to Mickey.

“Since you’re using quite a few stimpacks, you need to drink plenty of water.” Arcade explained and Mickey grinned and twisted the cap off the bottle. Drinking water wouldn't’ be that much of a problem, given how thirsty he was. However, he imagined getting up to find a toilet around this place would be harder.

“I seem to remember us having this conversation before.” Mickey remarked after taking a deep drink from the bottle. It was refreshing and he wanted more, but he knew he had to pace himself. Arcade watched him drink with a critical gaze, monitoring his intake.

“I’d very much like it if we could avoid having this conversation again. Despite being a doctor, I don’t exactly enjoy treating people I...I’m friends with.” Arcade’s pause made Mickey study the doctor, who was turning a pretty shade of pink underneath Mickey’s stare.

“I think you mean people you’ve slept with.”

“I don’t enjoy having to treat them, either. After all the trouble we went through to find your sister, I’d like for you to stay alive for her.” Arcade said, scribbling another note down on his clipboard when Mickey drank more of the water. Mickey would have felt the same had he been a doctor. It was probably conflict of interest, and there were probably rules about it.

“Speaking of, where is she? She was here earlier, right? I didn’t just dream that.” Mickey asked, lying backwards. The pain in his stomach was getting to be too much, although he knew that in the next day or two it’d be fine. Stimpacks sped up healing exponentially, and the Rosales family had always been strong, healthy people who healed quickly.

“She was. I’m not sure where she is now, although I keep hearing rumors that she’s the one who made it into the Lucky 38. I imagine she’ll be by later.” Arcade replied and set his clipboard aside and reached into his pocket. A stimpack was removed, leading Mickey to wonder what else the man kept in his pockets.

“Please don’t ask me to sit up again.” Mickey said, hoping he managed to keep most of the pain out of his voice. Obviously he didn’t, when Arcade’s expression became concerned. The doctor settled himself on the ground next to the mattress Mickey was resting on and reached for Mickey’s arm.

“How much pain are you in? Scale of one to ten.” Arcade also produced a bottle of a clear liquid and a clean cloth. Mickey assumed it was alcohol used for sterilizing skin, and discovered he was right when Arcade sterilized a patch of skin on his arm and injected the stimpack.

“Right now? About a six and a half.” Mickey replied, but he was considering refusing any Med-X Arcade offered him. He didn’t want to develop an addiction to the medication. He had seen it before and it wasn’t any more pretty than being addicted to Jet or Psycho.

“I’d like to give you some Med-X, but I’m worried about accidental addictions. Do you think you can deal with it for another few hours? The less we have to give you, the better.” Arcade echoed his thoughts. Mickey nodded at the doctor.

“Yeah. I’ve dealt with worse with no pain medication. I’ll be okay.” Mickey replied, drawing his blanket up around his torso. It wasn’t that he was shy, it was that there was a bit of a chill in the air. Not all that strange for early November in the Mojave, but he supposed that his injury had something to do with the chill he felt.

“Well, you should get some sleep. As much rest as you can. I’ll come by and check on you in a few hours.” Arcade moved to stand up, but Mickey reached out and caught his arm and held him in place.

“Stay awhile. If you can. I’d like the company.” Mickey asked, aware that he sounded like a girl, but the hardest part of recovering from an injury was the downtime. He didn’t read much, even though both he and Caroline knew how. However, he wouldn’t have minded a book or two to read, even though he was willing to bet all the books around here were boring medical texts.

“I suppose I can. At least until you fall asleep.” Arcade settled himself on the ground next to Mickey, tugging the tail of his labcoat out from underneath him.

“There’s plenty of room on here for two, you know.” Mickey grinned when Arcade sighed. In reality there was barely enough room for Mickey, but he didn’t feel like Arcade would actually join him in bed. Not here, anyhow.

“The last thing I need is Julie coming in here to find me in bed with a patient. She’d have my head.” Arcade told Mickey, although when the doctor’s blue eyes flicked towards the tent door, Mickey knew he was considering it.

“Better not then. I’m quite attached to your head.” Mickey earned himself another sigh from Arcade, but there was a smile on the doctor’s face now.

“Attached to the rest of me too, I imagine.” Arcade responded leaning forward to rest his elbow on his legs and his head on his hands. Mickey laughed.

“Now you’re getting it.” Mickey said and absently rubbed at his stomach over the blanket. Just because he was used to painful injuries didn’t mean he had to like it. He seemed to remember his mother telling him he was a terrible patient when he was younger and got sick.

“You should talk to me. Tell me a story to distract yourself from the pain.” Arcade said, reaching out hesitantly with his free hand to take Mickey’s. Mickey’s long arms allowed his hand to rest on Arcade’s knee, and neither man mentioned the fact that both their thumbs were tracing circles on each other.

“Well, I suppose I could tell you about the first time dad took me out ranging with him and the others. I was fourteen….”

* * *

 

“I don’t need your help to get up and piss, Arcade. I’m thirty-six, I think I know how to do it by now.” Mickey grumbled as he struggled to get out of bed. However, Arcade seemed bound and determined to assist him. In truth, Mickey was feeling much better, despite the need to visit the toilet, and could manage it by himself.

“You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before, if you recall. And If it’s body fluids you’re worried about, I was wrist deep in your abdomen fixing the damage that blade caused.” Arcade insisted, keeping a firm grasp on Mickey as he stood up. The pain was minimal today, but Arcade didn’t seem to believe him.

“No, I’m not worried about that. I’d just like a little privacy. I’m not going to fall over and die while in there, you know.” Finally on his feet, Mickey wondered why the doctor was causing such a fuss. He felt better than he should, minus the small twinge in his stomach whenever he flexed his abdominal muscles.

“You’d better not.” Arcade said, relenting. He still hovered as Mickey made his way to the outhouse.

Business taken care of, Mickey was glad for the chance to stretch his legs and walked around a bit instead of heading back to the tent that was his temporary home. He’d rather go back to his bed, but he doubted Arcade would allow him to, since he couldn’t keep an eye on Mickey there.

Or could he? He could easily monitor Mickey’s health and do his research, and Mickey was more comfortable.

“You know, I’d really like to finish up this recuperating stuff back in my own bed.” Mickey started, tucking his hands into his pockets. His pants had been washed and most of the bloodstains removed, but his shirt was gone, so he had badgered Arcade into letting him borrow one.

“Mickey, I’m not sure you’re up for whatever you’re thinking.” Arcade sighed, pushing his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose. MIckey rolled his eyes.

“One, I wasn’t thinking anything but being comfortable in my own bed and two, you vastly underestimate my libido and how it motivates me.” Mickey grinned at the doctor. Really, he was feeling fine, but he didn’t want to push himself. He could understand Arcade’s concern, but the stimpacks were fixing him up just fine.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I need to check up on you every so often. Make sure you haven’t done something dumb and reopened your wound.” Arcade told Mickey, guiding him back towards the tent that had become Mickey’s temporary home.

“Arcade, you keep me trapped here and I’m going to lose it. I need my bed, I’d like a shower and I’d like to be able to sleep for eight hours without Julie coming in to poke at me while your nose is stuck in a book.” Mickey grumbled, stopping in the middle of the compound. He really didn’t want to be stuck staring at the tent for another day or two. At least at his place he had things to read that weren’t dry medical texts.

Arcade hesitated, appearing to consider Mickey’s words. And then he sighed again.

“I’ll see what I can do. But you need to rest right now. Come on.” Arcade guided Mickey back into the tent. Mickey grumbled underneath his breath but followed the doctor anyways. He’d get nowhere by arguing. If he had to, he could sneak out. He’d slipped out of more secured areas with worse injuries.

For now, he found other things to think about. Caroline was a favorite topic of his mind, but Arcade was floating around in there too. It was odd how the doctor had became an immediate fixture in his brain, but he wasn’t about to complain about it. He enjoyed Arcade’s company and would do his best to keep him around, even if it meant getting into a few more scrapes so he had somebody to play doctor with.

An hour or two later and Arcade returned again, a backpack slung over one shoulder and a stack of books in his hand. Mickey grinned at the blond man and carefully got to his feet. He didn’t have anything on him, save for what was in his pockets, so getting out of here will be easy enough.

“Julie is letting me leave under the terms I get some research done. That means no distractions.” Arcade said sternly. Mickey was happy to be going home, but he fully intended to keep Arcade busy too.

“I’ll keep dying to a minimum.”

“Oh, how nice of you.”

Mickey was just glad to be going home, even though by the end of the short trip to his small place his abdomen was protesting all the movement. It seemed like he wasn’t as healed as he thought, and it’d still be a few more days until he was completely recovered. He was thankful for stimpacks though, although he normally didn’t like chems.

Settling into his bed brought a smile to his face and he closed his eyes and sighed, ignoring the twinge in his stomach. It’d pass. Arcade was at his small table, stacking his books neatly in whatever order he needed.

“You need to eat something. Have anything around here?” Arcade asked and Mickey cracked open an eye.

“I’m sure there’s something. But I’m not hungry.” Mickey said, and he really wasn’t, which was surprising considering he didn’t remember eating since before he was injured.

“I didn’t ask if you were hungry. I said you needed to eat.” Mickey watched Arcade poke through his cupboards with mild interest. He couldn’t say what he had, as he usually ate while he was out gambling. If he was doing particularly well at a casino, sometimes they’d pay for his meal.

The fridge, a pre-war relic, was still in good shape, surprisingly, and Arcade opened it next. The light inside didn’t work, but it was cold, using what little power the landlord could snag from the lines entering the Strip. The fridge was also sparse, but apparently Arcade found something he deemed suitable.

“A doctor who can cook. I think I might keep you.” Mickey watched Arcade explore the small kitchen to find what he needed as he put together whatever he planned for their supper. Mickey honestly didn’t have a clue what he might be making. His fridge was a mystery.

He managed to climb out of bed and made his way to the table where Arcade had stacked his books. Sitting down, he purposely tugged one out from the bottom of the stack, sending the others toppling down. Arcade turned and glared at him and Mickey smiled sweetly and flipped his chosen book open.

Beside the neatly drawn diagrams of the human body, Mickey stared at blocks of unintelligible text. He could read English just fine, but whatever this was he wasn’t familiar with. Although, if he looked closely-

“It’s in Latin. I don’t imagine you can read that, but it does have some very interesting images of the human body.” Arcade commented. Mickey paused. The only people he had heard use Latin were Legionaries. It kind of made sense for doctors to know it, considering how many terms were in Latin. It was a pre-war holdover.

Still, it was a little curious.  
“Read it? Probably not. I think I’m a little old for picture books though.” Mickey closed the book and righted the stack of books, setting them how Arcade had placed them. A bowl was placed in front of him a moment later and Arcade sat down across from him.

“I’m clearly not the chef at the Ultra-Luxe, but I’m sure you’ll find it passable.” Mickey fished the fork out of the bowl and tasted it. It was some kind of salad made with whatever vegetables he had in the fridge, along with bits of cold brahmin steak. It actually wasn’t bad, and Mickey found his appetite returning with each bite.

“I don’t ever eat there anyways. I try and avoid the place. They weird me out.” Mickey said between bites, noting how Arcade watched him carefully to make sure he ate.

“They have that effect on a lot of people, so I hear. I hardly ever go onto the Strip, most of the injuries make it to us somehow.” Arcade replied, pulling a book towards him and flipping it open, propping it up on some of the others. Mickey looked at it and found it entirely text and went back to his dinner.

“What’s that?” Mickey asked around a mouthful and then swallowed and laughed when Arcade leveled a stare at him due to his obnoxiousness.

“ _De Oratore._ It’s -”

“On the Orator. Where do you find books in Latin?” Mickey asked, spearing another bite. He froze when he glanced up at Arcade and found him looking at Mickey with a questioning look in his eyes.

“It’s part of my private collection. You’ve heard of it?” Arcade asked. Mickey shrugged, trying to give off an air of nonchalance. He may have just given away more of himself than he wanted.

“Heard of it? No. I just recognize the words.” Mickey replied, going back to his meal. Arcade did the same after a long moment and Mickey hoped the doctor would drop it. He didn’t want to answer any questions.

“Some Old World libraries survived. When I was younger, I came across one of them and salvaged a few books before it was all taken elsewhere. I couldn’t read them at first, but over the years I learned Latin. It’s quite fascinating, if you’d like to give it a read sometime.” Arcade explained. Mickey glanced up at him. Didn’t they establish that he couldn’t read Latin?

“I’ve always been a sucker for smart men speaking foreign languages. Why don’t you read it to me sometime?” Mickey ate until he was full, which thankfully meant his bowl was nearly empty. He didn’t feel like Arcade tutting at him like his mother when he didn’t eat everything on his plate.

“You won’t understand a word.”

“So explain it to me.” Mickey replied, leaning back in his chair. Lacing his fingers together behind his head, he was the picture of relaxation. Internally, he couldn’t be more nervous. This was why he spent so much time alone (besides Caroline, who was almost always gone anyhow). He didn’t have to worry about slipping up.

There were some things people were just better off not knowing.

“That actually wasn’t half bad. I missed having people cooking for me. Caroline was pretty good at it, when she was around. Wasn’t bad at cooking over a campfire either.” Mickey remarked when Arcade finished his own food. He wondered what Caroline was up to, but felt confident enough that her NCR sniper friend would keep an eye on her. She never had very many friends growing up, but she knew how to pick good ones.

“Don’t get used to it. And you should get back to bed. I need to give you another stimpack tonight, it’s probably the last one you need, but I’ll have to check the wound to make sure.” Arcade had slipped back into doctor mode (did he ever really leave it?) and while Mickey huffed and pretended to be annoyed with it, he was secretly pleased that he had someone around.

“I’m going to shower first. Care to join me, Doctor? I might need assistance.” Mickey said, pushing himself up from the table and scooping up his dishes. He’d take care of them later (by later he meant tomorrow) so Arcade would calm down.

“You don’t need to exert yourself any more today, Mickey.” Arcade said from the table as Mickey moved towards his bathroom.

“And I’d suppose you’d know all about how much I can exert myself.” Mickey retorted, laughing at the doctor’s blush as he disappeared into the tiny room. He was too cute.

MIckey examined his newly acquired scar in the mirror after he undressed. The surface damage was mostly healed, leaving a pink line about five inches long. He knew the original wound was small, but the doctors opened him up to repair the damage done. It was risky, especially in a field hospital set up like the Followers had, but stimpacks weren’t miracle cures.

In the shower, Mickey considered his other scars. The ones on his back in particular. Would it be so bad to tell Arcade their origins? The censored version, anyhow, the one he told Caroline when she had seen them. If anything, he imagined Arcade would be sympathetic, not that he wanted sympathy. No, it just felt good to have it off his chest when he told Caroline. Now she didn’t remember, and honestly, he hoped she never did remember that little bit of information.

Julie knew about them too, again the carefully edited version (because no one needed to know the absolute truth) but she didn’t care. It was in the past, she said.  
Would Arcade feel the same way?

Shaking his head, Mickey turned off the tap and climbed out of the shower, tugging a towel off a hook and wrapping it around him. He was starting to sound like a girl. He stared into the mirror again, this time at his face, and decided he was too lazy to shave right now and would take care of it tomorrow. He had a few days growth on his face, which normally he didn’t like.

He left his bathroom to go find some clothing and he saw Arcade still at the table, but his books were pushed aside and his head was resting in his hands. He was clearly deep in thought and Mickey left him to it, poking through his hardly organized clothing to find something clean to wear. He’d have to wash some stuff soon, and he hated doing that. The Abraxo always dried his hands out.

Mostly dressed, Mickey held his shirt in his hands, considering. Arcade was a good man, it seemed, with his own secrets. He knew how to keep them. Mickey decided he could trust Arcade. After all, the man did follow him on an ill-advised trip through the desert to find Caroline and he did fix him up after he was stabbed.

“Arcade, I...I uh, need to tell you something.” Mickey tugged on his shirt, feeling more comfortable with the majority of his scars out of view. This was hard enough, he didn’t want physical evidence in view too.

Arcade lifted his head and looked at Mickey, his expression neutral. Mickey itched to know what he had been thinking about, but he’d ask later.

“I’m listening.” He said attentively. Mickey started pacing. Arcade didn't say anything about his movements, maybe picking up on Mickey’s tone.

“This isn’t easy. But I figured that we’re in a kind of relationship - I think - and you deserve honesty. I… well, when Havasu was raided, I sent Caroline away and went back to see if I could help. But there were too many of them. They seemed to know who the remaining Rangers were, and I learned later that someone sold us out.” Mickey paused, thinking carefully about what he wanted to say.

“I didn’t really go back to help. I knew it was a lost cause, I could tell. But I had to find Daniel. He wouldn’t leave, not without his little brothers. Triplets. I had to find them, get them out. But they had already been taken. The Legion liked taking small male children. It was easier to indoctrinate them, make them into soldiers. “Mickey sighed, remembering the three little boys. They had been five.

“Daniel was livid. His brothers were his world. But his rage made him sloppy and I found him fighting a losing battle against a couple of Legionaries. One got behind him, and it was all over.” Mickey stopped pacing and sat down on the corner of his bed. He looked at Arcade who was watching him carefully, clearly wondering where he was going with this story. It occurred to Mickey that Arcade had no idea who Daniel was. He’d explain later.

“I should have left with Caroline. He would have understood. Instead, I went back for him and his brothers, and the Legion caught me. I was lucky they didn’t kill me outright, but apparently their inside source had told them about me. I took orders well. I was strong, I worked hard.” Mickey took a deep breath. He noticed his hands shaking, and folded them in his lap. He didn’t look at Arcade gain.

“I was in shock and let them take me without a fight. I couldn’t think. Didn’t think until they put a collar on my neck and dragged me off to Flagstaff. I was a slave until a few years ago. I was given an opportunity to escape and took it. It was a stroke of luck finding Caroline in Freeside. This used to be her place, but she hardly used it. She was a courier then. Lied to the Mojave Express about her age.” Mickey smiled at the memory. She had recognized him right away, but he barely knew her. The last time he had seen her, she had been a child, and when he finally found her in ‘78, she had been on the edge of womanhood, with the physique to match.

“The scars on your back. That’s why you don’t like to talk about them.” Arcade spoke up after a moment and Mickey managed to drag his gaze up, look Arcade in the eye. To his surprise, the doctor didn’t look pitying or disgusted.

“Understandable, I think. I’m not ashamed of what I did that earned me those, but it does bring up some awkward questions. The Legion is the only one who uses whipping as a punishment.” Mickey sighed again, relieved that Arcade wasn’t running. He felt a little silly that he thought the man would even do something like that.

“Thank you. For telling me that. I know it’s not easy. But I appreciate the truth.” Arcade stood, crossing the small apartment to sit beside Mickey. Mickey felt a twinge of guilt, as it wasn’t exactly the whole truth, but it was as much as Arcade was going to get.

“And now, you need rest. Get in bed. Let me administer the stimpack and then I’ll join you after a shower.” Mickey nodded, keeping silent. He had said all he needed to, and he was tired after telling the story.

Lying back underneath the threadbare quilt, he closed his eyes and felt Arcade prep his arm and the small pinch as he was injected with the stimpack. He dozed while Arcade showered, and sighed when he felt Arcade slide underneath the quilt next to him.

“Tell me about Daniel.” Arcade said and Mickey opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. He had grieved and had come to terms with Daniel’s death, but it was still difficult to think of him.

“You probably would have liked him. You like me. He was tall. Black hair, gorgeous green eyes. Always had a smile. He knew Spanish and his dad had been teaching him French before he left with the other Rangers. Daniel was really smart. It didn’t take him long to learn anything. He had a twin, when we were young, a sister named Amanda, but she died from a snakebite when she was nine. He looked after Caroline when she was born like she was his sister. And I think that’s why I loved him.” Mickey said slowly. Some days, he still missed Daniel.

“I’m sorry you had to lose him.”

“Me too. He would have really liked you. I’m certain the three of us would have had quite a time.” Mickey rolled over in bed and snuggled close to Arcade, enjoying the warmth.

“I have no doubt. Get some sleep, Mickey. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Arcade murmured and Mickey allowed the doctor to wrap his arms tightly around him. Mickey tucked his head underneath Arcade’s chin and closed his eyes again.

“I hope so. I want to see what you do for breakfast.”

“I’m your doctor, not your chef.”

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

"Go to sleep, Mickey.”


	12. Welcome To The Jungle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Vegas isn't doing so great right now, so Six decides it's time someone does something about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this one got away from me. It's longer than I planned and I had some actual quests planned too, but I didn't actually get to them. Things should start picking up in the next few chapters.

_The ground rumbles beneath her feet. She’s not sure why, but she’s running as fast as her feet can carry her. Everyone is running. NCR soldiers, civilians, even the pets know something is wrong. She didn’t know what happened, what was going on, but instinctively she knows she needs to flee._

_It had been years since she had run in fear like this. But she was a child then, and almost a woman now. She was faster, her legs were longer. But they were carrying her to the same person._

_She had to get home to Daddy._

_The valley disappears in flashes of brilliant light, and suddenly she’s in Freeside. Daddy’s putting on his armor. He’s going to fight the Legion, but she can’t let him leave. Mickey left to fight the Legion and he didn’t come back._

_Daddy kneels down in front of her. Now he’s eye level. Even though she’s grown so much, he’s still so much taller than her. For a minute, she remembers how she used to think he was a superhero, like in the comics Mickey read to her. The armor made him invincible._

_“I’ll come home, I promise.” She believes him. Daddy never lies, never makes a promise he can’t keep._

_He keeps his promise. But when he comes home, he’s not the same. His eyes are dark, filled with a sadness she’s never seen, not even after Mama died. But he’s hurt, so she takes care of him the best she can, even when he doesn’t want her to. She feels like Daddy won’t be around forever, not anymore. And then she’ll be all alone._

* * *

 

Six woke with a start, shaking the bed, and beside her Veronica murmurs sleepily and reaches out clumsily to pat her on the stomach. She supposed Veronica was trying to comfort her and strangely enough, it did.

Carefully pulling back the blanket she got out of bed and left the suite to get a drink from the kitchen. She figured everyone would be asleep, seeing as how they returned to the Strip so late tonight, a new friend in tow. Six poked her head into the room to check on her friends.  Cass was asleep on the sofa in the guest room, feet propped up on one of the arms. Boone and Raul were in the other beds, also asleep. She didn’t want to disturb them, so she carefully pulls the door to the room closed and headed into the kitchen to find a drink.

She filled a glass with water and drank deeply, emptying it in seconds and filling it again. This time, she was slower, enjoying the cool water.

She couldn’t quite shake the feelings from her dream. The fear, the sadness, the loneliness. She needed to go for a walk to clear her head, but she didn’t want to wake her companions.

Checking the time on her Pip-Boy, she realized there was just an hour before dawn. Surely she’d be alright, if she was careful. Freeside was dangerous, but she was armed and perceptive. She could take care of herself. She had done aright alone up until she met Boone.

You know, besides getting shot in the head.

Back in the room she shared with Veronica, she quietly dressed and put on her leather armor. She left her hunting rifle here in favor of a service rifle that had seen better days and her pistol. Just as quietly, she left the suite and took the elevator down.

Outside the Lucky 38, she breathed in the cold morning air. Winter was coming to the Mojave, and while temperatures probably wouldn’t drop too far below freezing, most people weren’t used to the cold weather. She had taken the appropriate measures and layered up before she came down, but she was still a little surprised at the chill in the air.  

Her feet carried her off the Strip and into Freeside, and she just walked, keeping an eye out for any activity. It seemed that the early morning chill had driven most inside though, as she didn’t see very many people at all. 

She found herself on top of an old burnt out building, and she settled herself on what used to be a windowsill. She had an excellent view east, and she figured she’d stick around for the sunrise and head back in and figure out a plan for the day. She still had to deal with Benny at some point, although she was just dragging her feet. She was scared, to be honest with herself. The bastard had tried to kill her, and undoubtedly he’d try it again. But she had to get the Platinum Chip and finish the job.

She thought about her dream. She wished she could remember more about her past, although she figured that she was remembering her father for some reason. Maybe it was because of Cass and her chatter about her own father on the way back to the Strip. Although what had happened before her dream had changed, she didn’t have a clue what that was about.

Below her, she heard a scuffle and a muffled curse, and she quickly swung her legs back into the building and stood, drawing her pistol and tucking herself out of sight. She heard someone coming up the stairs, and her trigger finger moved from the trigger guard to hover over the trigger itself.

A man came up the steps, his back to Six, and she watched as he moved over to where she had been sitting just moments ago. Groaning, he settled himself down where she had been, and she watched him carefully for a while.

“You should holster your weapon, Caroline.I’d really like to not recover from another injury anytime soon.” The man said and Six realized suddenly that it was Mickey. She flipped the safety back on her pistol and slid it back into the holster on her thigh.

“What are you doing over here? Shouldn’t you still be at the Follower’s?” She asked and watched him shrug.

“I’m doing better. Arcade’s gonna get pissed at me but it’s kind of a tradition of ours. Watching the sunrise. On Sundays, Dad would get us up early and take us to the high points in the area and we’d watch the sunrise and he’d give us a little sermon on something new. He called it  his Sunday service, although we never did get to chat about religion very often.” Mickey explained, shifting his position a little bit.

“Before he died, he’d come here a lot. When you were home, you’d come too.” Mickey yawned and leaned against what was left of the wall.

Six moved a little closer, looking out over at the sky. It was starting to lighten up, a gentle glow of pink joining the glow of the Strip behind them.

“I think I had a dream about him last night. About Dad.” She said, settling up next to Mickey. Getting to know her brother again would be a good thing for her. Hopefully it would bring back more memories. Well, whatever ones she had left.

“Was he crazy tall, looked a lot like me? That’d be Dad.”

“He looked so sad. Somehow, I knew he wasn’t going to be around much longer. I think it was after the Battle at the Hoover Dam?” Caroline kicked her legs absently, thinking about the dream again. It was fading now, like dreams often do, but she could remember the feelings from it.

Mickey was silent for a long time, his eyes focused on the horizon. When he finally spoke, he sounded sad as well.

“He learned something that day. Something that crushed him. His wounds weren’t terrible, but he just kind of…..let go.”

Mickey sighed and shook his head. Caroline turned out and watched the horizon. The sky was definitely lighter now, and the sun was only moments away from poking over the horizon. She frowned slightly and struggled to think, to find some other memory.

“Don’t strain yourself. They’ll come back.” Mickey reached over and rubbed her back, and it was strangely familiar and comforting.

“I just….I want to know. To remember. Fuck Benny. And you know what, fuck House too. He’s the one who wanted the Platinum Chip, whatever the hell it is.” Six growled, anger washing over her. It wasn’t exactly fair to House to blame him, but she was going to do it all the same. She could have said no to the job, but she felt that it wasn’t in her nature to say no to work.

“Speaking of House, I heard you got into the Lucky 38. How the hell did you pull that off?” Mickey asked and she shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal, at least not to her.

“I had to go talk to House, explain what happened. The securiton let me in. He’s called Victor, apparently, but he kind of creeps me out. House gave us a suite, the Presidential suite, actually, and while I’m in there, Victor just kind of sits by the door. It’s weird. I sleep with the bedroom door closed because I feel like he’s staring at me.” Six didn’t like the securitron, but she kept her mouth shut around them. She didn’t want it getting back to House.

“Who’s ‘us’? You and the sniper?” Mickey asked and she turned to look at him, arching her eyebrows. He wasn’t about to do the older brother thing, was he?

“There’s Veronica and Raul, who were the ones who saved your ass, and then there’s Cass, who just came with us yesterday. I took a trip down to the Mojave Outpost to deliver some paperwork for her and she decided to tag along.” She explained, hoping that the mention of some female company would stop him from deciding that his sweet little sister was participating in some kind of debauchery.

Still, she was an adult, wasn’t she?

“I’ve never known you to have very many friends, but I do feel better knowing you have some around. I never liked you going off on your own.” He said, shrugging his shoulders. Six faced the horizon again, watching the sun climb into their field of view.

“Do I have any around here?”

“Not that I knew about. No boyfriends either, but you’re too young for that anyways.” Caroline scowled at that but didn’t say anything. Too young for a boyfriend? Yeah, right. They lapsed into silence, watching the sun ascend further into the sky.

“I should probably get back before Arcade wakes up and has a conniption.” Mickey sighed after a while, standing up and stretching. She watched him and didn’t miss his wince when he pulled his abdomen too tight. He was still injured.

“I should probably get back too. Boone doesn’t seem to like me wandering by myself.” Caroline replied, climbing to her feet as well. She was willing to bet that Raul was already up. She was hoping he was the only one up, because as soon as Veronica woke and found her gone, they were bound to panic.

“Freeside isn’t a good place for that. Used to be better, but the NCR pushing into the area hasn’t helped things.” Mickey rubbed at his stomach to emphasize his point. Yeah, he was probably right about that.

“What’s the NCR doing that’s so bad? They seem kind of good to have around, what with the Legion pushing from the East.” Caroline followed Mickey down the stairs and back out into the street, where they paused by the door.

“Not getting along with the locals. Trying to take what isn’t theirs to take.” Mickey frowned and looked around. She gave it all a once over too, looking for any potential threats.

“You sound like you think Vegas would be better off without the NCR. But who’d stop the Legion when they made a bid?” She asked, leaning back against the wall since it didn’t look like they were going to be moving anytime soon.

“Hard to say. Freeside and the Strip, and the rest of New Vegas have the potential to be so much more than it is, but House took control and screwed it all to hell. The NCR moving into the area certainly doesn’t help, and the Legion wouldn’t either. A unified New Vegas would have the power to oppose both forces.” Mickey said and shrugged his shoulders. She didn’t know enough about the situation around here to argue. It did make a little sense though, with the little she did know about the area.

“But that’s not likely to happen. Nobody is willing to do the hard work. So, before I let you head off back to your friends and creepy securitrons, d’you mind coming back with me to my place? I have something for you that might help jog a few of your memories.” Mickey nodded in the direction of what she assumed was his place. Why not? She’d calm them down later if she had to.

“Sure. I can’t stay long, or they’ll all panic, but I can stop by. I should probably know where it is anyway, since I can’t remember.” She replied with a smile and followed Mickey as he started walking.

“So, you’re healing up okay?” Caroline asked, making conversation as they traveled to wherever he had a place. He shrugged, reaching up to rub at his stomach again.

“The Followers are good doctors, even with the limited supplies they have here. Arcade and Julie are good at what they do.” Mickey said, and she noticed he didn’t really answer the question. She wanted to pry, but she actually had another question on her mind, one she couldn’t stop herself from asking.

“Are you and Arcade together? I mean...It’s okay if you are. I think. I don’t have anything against it if you prefer guys over girls.”

Mickey chuckled and guided her down another street. Now that she had asked, she felt like she was being incredibly rude. It wasn’t her business what he did, not really. Although, as his sibling, she was allowed to ask, wasn’t she?

“I don’t know what Arcade and I are. Nothing so solid as ‘together’, anyways. And I’ve dated plenty of women too. I don’t prefer one over the other.” Mickey told her, tucking his hands into his pockets casually. She wondered if she should remember any of this. Probably. But it wasn’t ringing a bell for her.

They stopped outside a door in a row of them, and she assumed that this was where he stayed. It was probably a Pre-War apartment complex of some kind, and while it looked run down, it was in better shape than some of the other buildings. Mickey fished a key out of his pocket and opened the door.

“You know, you and I need to have a long chat over what’s appropriate for someone recovering from - Oh. Hello, Caroline.” Arcade was sitting on the bed, apparently tying up the laces for his boots when the two of them walked in.

“Hi.” She gave a small wave and stepped aside so Mickey could close the door. She took a look around, hoping that she’d recognize the place, but it didn’t trigger anything. Maybe just seeing things wasn’t how it worked, since she walked into Freeside and didn’t remember anything.

“Oh, for the love of God, Arcade. I’m fine. Had something I needed to do and ran into her.” Mickey said, exasperated, but something about his tone told her that he wasn’t as bothered by Arcade’s protectiveness as he pretended to be.

“And that’s perfectly fine, but I told you, I don’t want you exerting yourself for at least another week to let things settle. That means no fights, no climbing, no….whatever it is you have to do so early in the morning.” Arcade waved absently as he talked and Caroline grinned a little bit.

There was definitely something going on between the two.

“And I didn’t do any of that. Make some coffee and I’ll join you for a cup in a minute, I’m just getting the eyebot for Caroline.” Mickey moved over towards a table where she spotted the aforementioned eyebot. She wondered where he had gotten it from, since you didn’t exactly see too many of them around. The only one she had seen was in Primm, but it wasn’t working so she didn’t bother to ask about it.

She was also a little busy with their Powder Ganger problem.

“Here. Found this in Primm for you. You used to be handy with electronics, although I think it was more luck than anything. And when you were a kid, you had this eyebot toy Dad found and brought back for you.” He explained and she approached the desk carefully. She didn’t remember anything, but she didn’t expect to. It seemed that she only really remembered things when she wasn’t really alert, when she wasn’t using her mind for other things.

“Yes, Good. Give it to your sister so it explodes when she turns it on. Wonderful gift.” Arcade said in the kitchen, although it sounded like he was speaking to himself.

“Hey. You knew what I was doing with it and you start bitching now?”

She looked over the thing, and it kind of made sense to her. Some deep-set knowledge that the bullet didn’t dislodge, maybe.

“It’s not going to blow up. Needs a few things, and I’d probably have to talk to Veronica to make sure, but it should be fine.” She reached out and picked up the eyebot to turn it over. It was lighter than she thought it would be.

“How does Veronica know what to do with broken eyebots?” Mickey asked, and although his tone was carefully neutral, she could tell he was suspicious. Eyebots were Enclave technology (more information she didn’t consciously remember until now) and people around here, and everywhere, didn’t seem to like the Enclave.

“She’s a tinker. Knows a lot about electronics of all kind. She’s travelled a lot too, I’d bet she’s seen one before.” She answered cautiously, keeping her eyes on the eyebot. She didn’t want to give up Veronica’s secret, because around here the Brotherhood of Steel wasn’t too liked either.

“Well….just be careful with it.” Arcade warned. She shrugged and turned towards the door, the eyebot still in her arms. She needed to get back.

“You can’t go with your hands full. How are you going to protect yourself?” Mickey asked as she started moving. Caroline looked over at him incredulously.

"Uh...I’ll drop it.” She said like it was the world’s most obvious answer. And really, it was. Well, she could throw it at whoever decided to come at her, but it probably wouldn’t do much except buy her some time.

“Hold on, you can stuff it in my backpack.” Mickey said, turning to look for the canvas back he carried with him when he travelled places. He found it on the sofa underneath some other things and tugged it out and opened it, shaking its contents out on to the sofa.

“I don’t need it, really. It’s a short walk and nobody has tried anything yet. I am pretty well armed.” She said as he held out the bag for her to drop the eyebot in. It was a tight fit, but it’d hold it on her back securely enough that she could get to her pistol if she needed. However, freeing her service rifle would be an issue.

“Seriously, take it.” Mickey insisted, waving the bag at her.

“I don’t need it.” Caroline said, refusing just to do it now. This felt familiar, as did the impatient expression on his face. She smothered a grin and watched him stare at her expectantly.

“You really are siblings, aren’t you?” Arcade said, and they both turned to look at him at the same time. He stared back at them with a grin on his face and crossed his arms.

“Fine.” She huffed, not really annoyed, and placed the eyebot into the bag, careful not to bend any of its antennae. She lifted the bag onto her back and adjusted the straps so it sat comfortably on her shoulders.

“Thank you.” Mickey said and Caroline rolled her eyes.

“I’ve gotta go now before somebody panics and burns down a casino looking for me. You guys can come by the 38 whenever you’d like, just tell Victor you’re looking for me when you get to the door. He should let you in. Or at least let me know if you’re there.” She moved towards the door and opened it, giving the guys a wave.

“Would they really do something like that?” Mickey asked. Caroline shrugged and smiled at them.

“Don’t know, but I don’t want to find out! See ya around!” She said as she walked through the door, pulling it shut behind her.

* * *

She had arrived back at the 38 just in time. As soon as she stepped out of the elevator into the suite, the four people in the suite jumped out of whatever room they were in. Boone was with Veronica, both completely dressed and armed. Raul and Cass were not as prepared as the other two.

“Where have you been?” Boone demanded. Six wasn’t sure if she liked the tone he had.

“We were about to come looking for you!” Veronica waved her hand, the one wearing the power fist, towards the door.

“No they weren’t. You’re a big girl, boss, you don’t really need us looking over your shoulder all the time.” Raul leaned casually against the doorframe.

“Told you she was fine. Looks like you got your panties in a bunch over nothing.” Cass yawned. Her shirt was unbuttoned and her hat was missing, but it looked like she had tugged on her boots when they woke her.

“Sorry guys. I should have left a note. I was with my brother.” She said, pulling off the backpack with the eyebot and setting it inside the door to the master bedroom. She’d deal with it later. She did some thinking on the way over here, and she wanted to talk to them all about something.

“So...you remember him now?” Cass asked, having gotten the whole story on their trek back from the Mojave Outpost.

“Um. Well, it’s hard to say. Best way I can think to describe it is….hearing music in the distance. You know it’s there, but you can’t identify it.” She explained, un-slinging her rifle and setting propping it up next to the bag. She needed to get some kind of storage system in here for the stuff she was starting to accumulate.

“Kind of makes sense. I guess.” Raul replied. Six waved them all into the kitchen, the only space big enough for them all to sit down.

She smelled coffee when she entered the room, and poured herself a cup. It wasn’t great tasting, but it was warm, and she dumped a little agave nectar into it to sweeten it up.

“So, while I was out, I had a conversation with Mickey. My brother, whom all of you have met at some point, although he was bleeding on the two of you at the time.” Six nodded her head towards Veronica and Raul.

“He got me thinking about Freeside. Well, about all of New Vegas, really. It’s in kind of a precarious situation right now, with the NCR on the one side and the Legion on the other. Now, I know you all probably know more about it than I do, but Mickey seems to think that if Vegas was it’s own independent…..what’s the word I’m looking for…” Six tapped on the table, thinking.

“City-state?” Veronica supplied helpfully. It was perfect.

‘Yes. That. If Vegas was it’s own city-state, it’d be better off. For everyone. I know the NCR wants it for its resources, and I know you want to help the NCR, Boone, but I think we should all at least consider and discuss this.”

“Discuss what? Unifying the whole of New Vegas? Boss, I’m glad you freed me from Black Mountain, and I’m happy to help, but I don’t know what the five of us could do.” Raul said. Six sat down at the table and took another sip of her coffee. He was right to be concerned, but she had given this a bit of thought, taking longer than she should have to get back to the 38.

“I gotta agree with him. I mean, I don’t really know much about you guys, but I think we’re all pretty talented people. She seems pretty smart.” Cass pointed at Veronica. “And he’s an artist with that rifle of his, and you’re pretty damn good at motivating people when you set your mind to it, but there’s just five of us.”

“There’s a quote I heard somewhere. Not sure who said it, some guy who died long before the Great War probably, but it was something like ‘All that is necessary for evil to succeed is for good men to do nothing.’” Veronica said, interlacing her fingers and resting her chin on them. Six thought that was an incredibly apt quote for what she wanted to say. It was sometimes easy to forget that Veronica had an education beyond most of what the wasteland had seen.

“You’re assuming we’re all good men here.” Boone said. Six had to resist rolling her eyes. She felt that it was necessary to have another chat with Boone about his self-image.

“We are. At the very least, we have good morals. And I think we can all agree the Legion is the evil party here, if we want to start assigning labels to groups. I don’t think this conflict is nearly as black and white as that, but if it helps, we’ll use it.” Six insisted, her eyes meeting Boone’s as she spoke. _You ARE a good man_ , she said silently, and held his gaze until he looked away

“But you’re talking about unifying the whole New Vegas and Mojave area. That’s a big fucking project.” Cass replied, leaning back into her chair.

“Everything started from somewhere. I’m sure the NCR didn’t just spring into being one day as big as it is now. It started in a town, a village somewhere - “

“Shady Sands.” Boone said.

“Right. It was small. So we’ll start small too. Here in the Strip, maybe. Or in Freeside. We’ll help set things right, make a name for ourselves. I know there are some things we can start with. I’ve heard disturbing rumors about Gomorrah and the Ultra-Luxe, although for the life of me I can’t figure out which one is worse.” Six told them, frowning as she thought about it. Cannibals or snuff films. Both were equally horrible.

“Freeside isn’t great either. Big drug problem, lot of violence. I know that the Kings are kind of in charge, we might want to go talk to them, see if they can help.” Cass said. Freeside was also an issue, but like they had been saying, there was only five of them.

“And then there’s Benny, which you need to deal with sometime.” Veronica said gently but Six scowled anyways. She didn’t like to think of that. Honestly, she was stalling at this point, not sure what she was going to do.

“I’ll….get to him eventually. I’ve gotta come up with a plan.” She said and decided to move away from the topic of Benny. She’d get to it. She really would. Just….not now.

“How about this. The Strip isn’t going anywhere. We’ll see what we can do to make Freeside a little safer. People will hear about it and want to come through to visit the Strip, and while word gets out, we can go see what’s up with Gomorrah and the Ultra-Luxe.” Six said and everyone seemed to be thinking about it.

“I like it. If anything, Boone won’t go into panic mode when you go see your brother again.” Veronica said and Six shrugged. She wasn’t sure how to feel about Boone being as over-protective as he was. She knew where it came from, sort of. Didn’t mean she had to like it. She was hardly helpless.

“Sounds good here too. Maybe we can see about my caravans while we’re at it.” Cass remarked, and Six remembered about Cass’s caravans. Also something that needed to be dealt with.

“Not sure how much help I’ll be, but I’m in.” Raul said. Six smiled over at him.

“You’re crazy fast with that gun of yours. I’m sure you’ll be quite handy if things get messy.”

“I’m in too.” Boone said, but to Six’s ears he sounded reluctant. She turned her attention to him.

“I know you’re a little hesitant to do anything that might upset the NCR. I promise we’ll try and keep the peace. If we can get a unified New Vegas and treaty set up with the NCR, I feel like the Legion won’t stand a chance.” Six said, not sure where that confidence was coming from. She wasn’t even sure if this was something that could be done.

She just knew she had to try. Go big or go home, right?

“Alright then, ladies and gentlemen. Get some breakfast, get dressed and gear up.” Six stood up and finished her coffee and dumped her mug in the sing to deal with later. She wasn’t feeling hungry so she passed on breakfast for now, but she’d pack some supplies just in case. She went into her bedroom to find her pack and clear some of the junk she had collected out of it and put in some extra ammo and some water for the day.

She ended up dumping the contents of the pack onto the floor to sort through later. She had all kinds of stuff in there and she wanted to hurry and get things done instead of deciding what she wanted to keep. She poked through the mess, adding the extra ammo magazines to her bag, along with the few boxes she had in there, and the bottles of purified water and some food so she wouldn’t have to find some place to eat today.

She pushed aside a fission battery and some scrap electronics and then paused and threw a glance over at the eyebot sitting by the door. She pulled the eyebot over to her and looked it over briefly. Maybe she could use the scrap electronics to repair the eyebot’s navigational arrays and use some scrap metal to fix the outside hull of the thing.

She produced a screwdriver out of the pile she had dumped out of her pack and opened up the robot to take a peek inside. It wasn’t too bad off. Replacing the electronics took just a few minutes, but the repair job with the scrap metal took a little longer. And it could be better, but she’d fix that later.

“Put a sensor module behind the optical sensors and one right there on the flight board and it might actually work.” Veronica spoke up over Six’s shoulder, making her jump. She had been so concentrated on her work she hadn’t heard the woman approach.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. I came to tell you we’re about ready to go and I found you on the floor playing with the ‘bot. Where’d you get it?” Veronica asked. Six followed the woman’s suggestions and began installing the sensor modules. Veronica passed over a set of precision tools that she had in a small pouch. They made the process so much quicker.

“Mickey gave it to me. Picked it up in Primm. I saw it when I was there, but left it. Had better things to do with my time than - Woah!” Six jumped back the eyebot whirred to life and propelled itself into the air with a chirping beep.

“Wow! Cool!” Veronica exclaimed. Six climbed to her feet and stared at the bot. It beeped at them again. Her Pip-boy chimed a moment later, and she glanced down at it.  The device on her arm translated the electronic noises

_COMPANION PROTOCOL:: INACTIVE_

_BEGIN?:: Y/N_

“Um….Companion Protocol: Begin?” Six tried hesitantly, not really sure if she was doing it right. The eyebot made more sounds that sounded vaguely like a confirmation, and she glanced down at the Pip-boy screen again.

_COMPANION PROTOCOL:: ACTIVE_

“Well, looks like we have a new friend!” Six announced brightly, smiling up at the floating robot. It was oddly cute. It wasn’t triggering any memories, but she was pleased with it all the same.

“I don’t know much about these things. Maybe we’ll find someone who knows more. D’you mind if I take a look at it later?” Veronica asked, approaching the eyebot and examining it closely. It didn’t seem to mind, floating passively.

“Sure. Lets get the others and head out. C’mon you.” Six picked up her pack and secured it onto her shoulders and then slung her rifle over her shoulder as well. She waved at the eyebot and left the room, Veronica on her heels.

“What the hell is that thing?” Cass exclaimed when she came out into the hallway. She was dressed and ready, her hat settled neatly onto her hair. Boone followed, his own rifle slung over his shoulder. He glared at the eyebot but didn’t say anything.

“It’s cool is what it is. How many people get to have a robot following them around these days?” Veronica said happily, reaching up to pat the eyebot’s shell. It chirped but didn’t move, hovering in the same place.

“Okay then. Definitely not the weirdest thing I’ve seen.” Cass replied, crossing her arms. Six turned to Victor, who was waiting passively for her to tell him where she wanted the elevator to go.

“Casino floor, please, Victor.” Six said. Even though the thing creeped her out, it couldn’t hurt to be nice to it, right? At least it wouldn’t have an excuse to go rogue and start murdering people.

“No problem, pardner!” The securitron said cheerfully, opening the elevator doors. The five of them and the eyebot all entered the car and the doors closed and they began their descent. Six’s stomach gave a little turn as they dropped. It always made her feel a little funny. She supposed elevators were a new sensation for her (for most of them probably) and she’d have to get used to it.

“This elevator looks like the beginning of a bad joke.” Six remarked, looking over her gathered companions. Still, she grinned. Having them around made her feel happy and safe, even if she didn’t know them all that well.

“What’s the punchline?” Boone said after a moment and Six snickered.

“That’d be Veronica, of course.”

The only one who didn’t laugh was Boone, but he cracked a smile, so Six counted that as a win.

 


	13. Crazy Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caroline makes a bit of a name for herself in Freeside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're looking for an excuse as to why this is so late, I've got nothing. This chapter is told from both Caroline's and Mickey's points of view. It worked better that way, and it'll probably happen pretty similarly in the future, although I'm going to do my best to keep the chapters separate, as I'm trying to tell both their stories.

Six decided that she didn’t like Pacer the moment he told her to pay up or she wouldn’t see the King. She grumbled, passed over 50 caps and went through the now open door. She wanted to stomp up to the King, ask him why he thought it was smart to charge people to come see him.

She didn’t bring it up though. No use picking a fight over something that small. She had business to take care of here, and staying on the King’s good side would do her a world of good. It’d do Freeside a world of good too, if she could pull off her plan. On the way to speak to the King she had thought more about it, and become a little less sure about herself. It was a big thing.

She kept her opinions to herself.

The King had some things he wanted her to take care of, and she ignored the stab of annoyance when he asked her to investigate some of the bodyguards Freeside had to offer. Start small, gain his trust, she repeated over in her mind. She wasn’t sure how she’d go about hiring a bodyguard when she had four companions and an eyebot who were clearly more than enough for the average Freeside thug.

Taking the job (and the caps the King passed over to cover the hiring cost), she turned to leave and nearly tripped over the cybernetic dog the King had introduced as Rex. He barked at her as she stepped around him, raising her hands in apology.

“So? What’s the deal?” Veronica asked as Six ushered them all outside. Six thought about it for a moment.

“He wants me to hire a bodyguard to see why he keeps getting repeat customers. Thinks there’s something going on. Clearly, I don’t need a bodyguard with you lot, so I don’t know what to do.” She tapped her foot impatiently on the ground and crossed her arms.

“I’ve got an idea. Freeside’s a little rough, right? So a few women passing through would need a bodyguard. Obviously not us, since you two have big guns and I’ve got a power fist. But we can hide the weapons and go up and ask the guy to take us through.” Veronica suggested. Six pursed her lips in thought.

“Where does that leave us?” Raul asked, gesturing at himself and Boone.

“The three of us will go out the east gate, circle around and come through the north, where the bodyguards congregate. You two will just head over there and shadow us. Keep an eye out for anything fishy.”Veronica continued.

“You know, that’s not a half bad plan.” Cass replied and unslung her shotgun. She passed it over to Raul, but kept her machete strapped to her hip. “It’ll work better if our weapons are less obvious. Put your service rifle into your pack, like you’re just carrying it, and hide your pistol a bit in your coat.”

“I’m not sure I like this. What happens if something comes up outside the gate?” Boone asked as Six knelt to secure the rifle in her backpack.

“We’re still armed. I’ll just hide this in my sleeve. It’s less obvious. I doubt he’ll notice. And if he does….well, I’m sure we’ll think of something, between the three of us.” Veronica tugged on the sleeve of her robe a bit, and most of the power fist disappeared inside the fabric.

“Nothing too bad is going to happen. It’s a short trip. We’ll be fine, I promise” Six smiled up at Boone, then stood and shouldered her backpack again. She pulled her pistol free from its holster and tucked it inside the waistband of her pants. After that, she unbuckled the holster and stuffed it into her coat pocket.

“Let’s get a move on then.” Raul suggested, and the group split, the the women heading towards the east gate and the two men north.

“He’s really protective of you, Caroline.” Cass said when they were outside the gate. Six frowned and looked over towards the woman who just shrugged at the questioning glance.

“He really is. What’s the deal with you two?” Veronica agreed. Six shrugged. She really didn’t know what his deal was.

“I found him in Novac. He was one of the snipers there. I asked if he wanted to tag along with me after I helped him with something. Wasn’t long after that I ran into you, Vee.” Six said. She had noticed that Boone hovered closer to her than the others did, but she didn’t think too much of it. The were partners of a sort, and maybe it was just a sniper thing.

“What’d you help him with?” Cass asked as they ducked around a trade caravan and passed the Crimson Caravan gates.

“Not my story to tell. Doubt you’ll get it from him though, he’s pretty tight-lipped.” Six said and then pointed ahead when she spied some of the Kings standing outside the gate.

“You guys ready? No idea what’s going to happen from here on out.” She turned to the other two women who nodded.

“Alright then. Here goes nothing.” Six muttered as the three approached the gates. They nodded at the Kings as they passed, who gave a friendly wave in return and re-entered Freeside.

Her target, Orris, wasn’t hard to spot in his spiky armor. Next to the Kings waiting, he stood out. He turned to face her as she approached, and she gave him a cautious smile.

“Hey ladies. If you need to cross Freeside, no one will keep you safer than I will.” He announced, and the three of them stopped in front of him. Six decided to play clueless tourist and glanced around with wide eyes.

“Why do we need a bodyguard to cross Freeside? We’re just trying to get to the Strip.”

“Just look around. People here are as likely to stab you as they are to say hello. That is, if I wasn’t at your side.” He replied. Six looked around again, carefully studying the people. She knew he wasn’t wrong, learning that the hard way when Mickey was stabbed (although she supposed the lesson could have been worse ; she could have been stabbed) and he was a local.

“How much for your services?” She asked, reaching up to toy with the end of her ponytail. Idly, she thought about cutting it, and then realized she should probably be paying attention.

“Two hundred caps gets you my watchful eye on a trip to the south gate.” He told her, and she reached into her pocket to retrieve the money. She noticed his eyes on her as she did so, and she was careful to keep her pistol hidden.

“Alright. Sounds good to me. You guys okay with this? It seems like our best bet to get to the Strip safely.” She turned around to face them completely and rolled her eyes when he couldn’t see her. Veronica’s lips twitched as she fought a smile.

“Yeah, it’s really good that he’s around.” Cass replied, deadpan. Thankfully Orris didn’t notice and Six turned around again and handed over the caps.

“I want to mention a few things up front. In order to assure your safety, I need you to stick close to me. We’re going down the main road the whole way through, no detours. You wander off, I go off to find another customer. And we’ll be keeping a brisk pace, so keep up.” He said and Six barely had time to nod her agreement before he turned and marched off. She broke into a jog to keep up and turned to look behind her to make sure the others were keeping up.

She didn’t see Boone or Raul, so she hoped it was a good thing and they were keeping out of sight.

“To your left here is the Old Mormon Fort. If you get hurt, the Followers in there will patch you right up. Not that I ever need their services.” He called back to her. Seemed like he was gonna give them a tour while he was at it. So far, she didn’t really have anything negative to say about the guy, except that he needed to slow down a bit. Jogging through Freeside wasn’t easy when she had to keep an eye out for any shenanigans that Orris might pull.

“Up ahead on the next block is where the Kings hang out. Don’t let them scare you. If they don't outnumber you five to one, they won’t bother with you.” Orris said as they passed through a gate. Ahead was the building where she met with the King, and she kept her eyes averted and didn’t try and draw any attention to herself. They didn’t seem too bad but she didn’t want to risk the mission.

“Down to the right here is the fun part of town. You haven’t seen Freeside til you’ve been to the Wrangler.” Six looked down and saw what looked like a bar. She’d have to check it out sometime. Bars could be useful. She met Cass in a bar, after all. They continued on.

“Hey, slow down. I don’t like the look of those men ahead. Let’s take a different way around.” He stopped and she glanced over his shoulder and saw a few guys just milling about. They didn’t even seem like they were paying attention, but she wasn’t here to argue. Six tossed a look back at the other two, who shrugged but kept up with Orris just the same. He ducked down to the left, through a side street and passed a burnt out car.

Here’s where it started to get a little questionable. He was taking them behind a building, out of sight of anyone else. Six readied her hand, ready to reach for her pistol if he tried anything. The gun at his hip looked pretty lethal, but she was fast with her own.

They reached the edge of the building, and he drew his pistol as he rounded the corner. Four men waited for them. He fired his pistol and the thugs dropped. He smiled confidently and turned to her, holstering her pistol.

“Nothing to worry about. If you had hired one of those other hacks, you’d be up to your ass in lowlife right about now.”He said arrogantly. Six itched to tell him that she could have handled it, but that wasn’t why she was here.

“Hey...you only fired three shots are there are four guys there.” Veronica said, coming up to stand next to Six. Six looked over and sure enough, there were four bodies on the ground. She also remembered hearing three shots.

“Er...noticed that, did you? I keenly aimed one of the shots through soft tissue to hit the man behind him.” He said, less confident now. Cass laughed and stepped up too.

“Or you just faked this whole thing to drum up repeat business.” Cass replied, hands on her hips.

“That’s an interesting theory you got there. I suggest you should keep it to yourself. Lets get moving.” He growled. Six raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything else. Her job was to report this guy to the King, not cause trouble.

“After you.” She nodded forward, and he spun and kept moving. She moved carefully around the bodies, but she could have swore as she moved by she saw one of them move, just slightly.

“Well, here we are. I trust you’ll keep your mouth shut about the topic we were just discussing. Or else.” He threatened as they approached the gate to the Strip. Six rolled her eyes and watched him leave.

“What a joke. He’s faking the attacks so people think he’s good.” Cass said and Six nodded, agreeing with her.

“That’s definitely what it looked like. Should we wait for the boys or go ahead and tell the King?” Veronica asked but she didn’t need to. Six caught a glimpse of red and the distinctive First Recon beret moved into view. She chose to forgo hers this morning, but Boone never did anything without it.

“You girls alright?” Raul asked when they were in earshot. Six nodded.

“The guy is staging the attacks to make himself look better. Let’s go tell the King and get this over with.” She assured them and resecured her leg holster and slid her 10mm pistol home. It felt right there, not at her back.

It was a short trip back to the King, and she left them in the lobby again since Pacer would probably demand that they pay money to go in too. Six smiled at the cybernetic dog, Rex, who was sitting behind the King, and the dog barked in response. The King turned around to see her.

“What do you have for me?”

“Orris is a fraud. He fakes attacks on his clients then plays hero.” Six reported, standing a little taller and tucking her hands behind her back. It was a professional look, and felt right. If she was going to get people to trust her, she had to look like she knew what she was doing, right?

“So that’s how it happens. okay then, I’ll have some guys pull him off the street when no one’s looking.” He said and Six couldn’t find herself all that concerned with what happened to Orris.

The King surprised her then, by telling her a little about how Freeside had been having issues with some of the NCR citizens moving into the area. Fights were breaking out. He asked her to go check on a friend of his, who had just woken up over at the Old Mormon Fort, and find out what happened. She assured him that she’d head over right away.

Before she left, she offered her hand to Rex and he sniffed her palm before licking it a few times. She patted the dog on the back and turned to leave the room. Rex nudged her thigh and barked at her and she grinned and waved as she left.

“So, what now?” Cass asked and Six bit her lip.

“Now it gets a little trickier. Boone, can I talk to you for a minute?” Six nodded her head down the street, away from the group. He waved her on, and they moved out of earshot.

“So, the King wants me to investigate some attacks a few of his friends have suffered. Thing is, he feels like they’re from NCR citizens. I’m not asking you to renounce your ties to the NCR. I’d never do that. I just want your reassurances that you’ll let me do what needs to be done if it comes down to it.” She explained and Boone frowned and crossed his arms.

“If there’s evidence, then I won’t get in the way. Freeside is a terrible place, but I don’t condone attacking the locals just because they don’t like you here.” He replied, and Six sighed and reached out to rest a hand on his bicep.

“I just don’t want to put you in a position you don’t want to be in. You’re my friend, Craig. If I’m ever doing anything you’re opposed to, don’t hesitate to tell me, okay?” She squeezed his arm when he nodded and removed her hand.

“Alright then. Lets do this. How about after we’re done here, me and you, we’ll take a trip and find more Legionaries and completely fuck up their day? You can teach me more sniping tricks too!”

* * *

“You’re healing up better than I would have expected, considering your injury.” Arcade prodded gently around the shiny pink scar on Mickey’s torso. Mickey was relaxed on his bed, hands tucked behind his head.

“Told you I’d be fine.” Mickey replied and frowned when Arcade removed his hands and stepped away, moving back over towards the table and his books. “But I can pretend to be hurt if you’ll come over here and doctor me more.”

The blonde rolled his eyes but there was a smirk on his lips and he turned around and moved back towards the bed.

“Only if you promise to follow the doctor’s orders.” Arcade grinned and climbed onto the bed, knees on either side of Mickey’s legs. He leaned over Mickey and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips and moved down his jaw. Mickey reached up and grabbed handfuls of Arcade’s shirt and pulled him closer, relishing in the way Arcade’s body radiated heat. On chilly days like today, he didn’t mind having someone curled up next to him. Or on top of him.

“Of course, Doctor Gannon. But I’ve been told I’m a terrible patient.” Mickey sighed and then his breath hitched when Arcade bit down on the curve where Mickey’s neck met his shoulders. Arcade soothed the bite with his tongue and Mickey tugged on the cloth in his hands, pulling it up to expose the flesh underneath.

“They’re not wrong.” Arcade laughed, lifting his head so Mickey could remove his shirt.

That’s when the gunfire started. Gunfire wasn’t entirely unusual in Freeside, and if it had just been a few shots, Mickey wouldn’t have even worried. But the closeness of the sound, and the amount of it had him stilling. Arcade froze above him, and the man looked down at Mickey reluctantly. Mickey knew immediately what the look was for.  Arcade was a doctor and his instincts were telling him that there were wounded people out there that needed care.

“C’mon, lets go see what the fuck is going on.” Mickey said and Arcade rolled off him and reached for his boots. Mickey found his discarded shirt and pulled it on while stomping his feet into his own shoes. He found his pistol and checked to see if the magazine was full. It was, and Mickey tucked another into his pocket before moving to the door. Arcade was just behind him, his plasma defender in hand.

The area outside his door was clear, but now that it was open he could tell that the gunfire was coming from a little further down. Keeping low, he moved towards the sound, gun at the ready.

He wasn’t surprised to see the Kings and disguised NCR troopers in a gun battle. The situation had been tense when he left to go find Caroline, and before he landed himself in the Followers camp from being stabbed, he had heard that the violence was escalating. While there, a couple of locals had been brought in, and Mickey had heard some of the doctors discussing it, but he didn’t know who the locals were.

What he was surprised to see was Caroline, darting into the area with her friends behind her, her gun in hand and shouting.

“Stop! I need to speak to Major Keiran! The King sent me with a-” Caroline’s body jerked around with a spray of red and she fell to the ground.

Mickey didn’t even think, he just reacted. He bolted forward, shouting her name.  He was vaguely aware of Arcade behind him, but his focus was on getting to his sister. He didn’t even realize the gunfire had stopped when he slid to his knees at her side.

“God fucking dammit!” She was writhing on the ground, her hand clamped around her arm. Blood flowed out from underneath her fingers and she was cursing  more than she was using any other word.

“In the bag, she has medical supplies.” The woman in the brown robe dropped down beside them, and Mickey glanced up to see the redhead woman from the Mojave Outpost with them, along with the ghoul. He also watched the NCR sniper stalk over to the troopers who had taken up shelter beyond the train tracks and his posture indicated that he was quite angry.

“It’s not bad. Hold still, I don’t want to jab you in the wrong place with this.” Arcade had found a stimpack in her backpack and had removed the cap with his teeth. Caroline looked over at him with wide eyes.

“Hold still? This fucking hurts!” She growled back and Mickey reached over and put his hands on her shoulders and held her into the ground. “Fuck!” She yelled at him and then threw her head back onto the ground and groaned. Arcade stuck the stimpack into the exposed flesh of her arm and then fished out a Med-X and injected that as well.

“The bullet punched clean through. Fraction of an inch to the right and it would have hit your bone.” Arcade said, examining the wound carefully. Caroline groaned again and Arcade wound what looked like a spare shirt of Caroline’s around her arm and bound it as tightly as he could.

“Oh, that’s a great damn comfort.” She said and Mickey helped lift her off the ground and onto her feet.

“Get her to the Fort. We’ll clean up here.” Veronica said and turned to look over at the NCR troopers. Mickey heard the sniper yelling, and he sounded absolutely furious.

“He doesn’t know about the fucking envoy, Major!”

Mickey was torn. He wanted to stay behind and help clear the air, because as much as he didn’t like the NCR, he didn’t want the situation to get worse. But he couldn’t leave Caroline.

“Oh wow. Med-X is nice.” Caroline slurred and leaned against Arcade. She turned and looked over at the doctor with a loopy grin.

“I see why you hang out with him. He’s…...he’s cute. Right, Vee?” She looked around for the woman and stumbled forward. Med-X was a fast acting drug and Mickey wanted to smile. But he couldn’t, not until the blood stopped staining her shirt.

“Come on, Caroline. Let’s go get you stitched up.” Arcade guided her away, towards the fort, and Mickey followed, slinging an arm around her waist to help support her. It wasn’t that she was heavy, although she was built pretty solidly despite being thin. She was clearly high and probably close to passing out. Mickey noticed now the eyebot following Caroline, and later he’d smile at the thought that she could still remember how to tinker. Arcade didn’t appear to notice but the doctor was completely focused on his patient

“Stitches are itchy. I had them here once.” She patted her stomach. Mickey’s chest tightened as he remembered hearing about the deathclaw story. He wasn’t around for it, it had been Caroline and their father at that point. It made him feel like a failure anytime she was hurt.

Especially now. He was so close this time, he could have stopped this somehow, he could have-

“Unfortunately, stitches are a necessary evil.” Arcade said soothingly. Mickey watched Arcade and how he carefully handled Caroline and her altered state and relief washed over him. There wasn’t anyone else he could imagine that would take better care of her.

Where had Arcade been his whole life? He and Daniel would have had a blast with him.

Caroline’s head lolled forward and her eyes drooped closed, but she fought unconsciousness and threw her head back and opened her eyes as wide as she could. Arcade steadied her, eyes widening in alarm and Mickey stopped them both.

“I’ll carry her. Rest, Caroline.” Mickey lifted her easily, tucking an arm underneath her knees and another arm behind her back and settling her against his chest.

“Rest? Can’t do that. Got a mission.” She mumbled, tucking her head into his neck. He smiled fondly at her. Of course she did. She always had a mission.

“Your friends can handle it, I’m sure.” He replied but she had already drifted off.

“She’ll be fine. It’s not a serious injury, all things considered.” Arcade assured him. Mickey nodded absently, looking ahead to be sure of his footing. The last thing he wanted to do was trip and drop her.  

He didn’t doubt that she’d be fine. She was tough, as evidenced by all the scars she carried. This would be one more to add to the collection. Undoubtedly it wouldn’t be the last. But he decided now that it’d be the last one he wasn’t around to try and stop. Wherever her mission took her, he’d be along for the ride. They’d spent enough time apart.

“I’m surprised you’re not arguing with me over carrying her.” Mickey said as they neared the Old Mormon Fort. Arcade smiled tightly.

“I would if I thought you’d listen. She’s your sister, I don’t imagine you’d let anyone do anything for her that you could do yourself.” Arcade told him, pushing open the gate to allow Mickey inside.

“It’s sounds like you know me pretty well now. And I know so little about you.”

“I’m really very boring. You’d get better stories out of a Freeside junkie.” Arcade led them into one of the tents, waving away the small blonde doctor Mickey knew as Doctor Kitchens.

“Somehow, I very much doubt that.” Mickey said, laying her down on the cot inside. Arcade busied himself with the chest  of medical supplies, gathering what he needed to stitch her wound closed.

“No, really. Have you ever snorted a ground up Cazador venom sac? Neither have I, but I can guarantee you a Freeside junkie has.” Arcade countered, returning to Caroline’s side with an armful of supplies. Bandages, a bottle of what was probably medical grade alcohol and a curved needle and a length of thread.

“I’m asking because I’m genuinely interested, you know. Don’t put yourself down.” Mickey sighed, falling silent as Arcade began to work, carefully unwinding the makeshift bandage and cleaning the wound. It was still bleeding, but sluggishly now, as the stimpack had begun healing the wound already.

“Well….you know I’m thirty-five. I was born...west of here. I was an only child and spent most of my time with my mother.” Arcade paused and threaded the needle he’d use to stitch up the wound. My father died when I was young and I never really got over it. Oh, and I like medicine and reading books about failed Pre-War socioeconomic policies.”

Mickey watched Arcade stop his work and look up at Mickey with a wry smile. “I’m sure you’re thinking ‘why hasn’t some lucky man scooped this bachelor off his feet?’ Like I said, I’m boring.”

“I like to think that I’m pretty lucky.” Mickey replied, grinning at the doctor when he blushed. Arcade did that a lot, and Mickey wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to it. It was completely adorable, and he’d be sure to find new ways to make sure it happened.

“But I’m sure you’re not boring. Why don’t you like talking about yourself?” Mickey had to ask. Arcade shrugged, tying off the last stitch and cutting the thread.

“I just don’t. Some people do, I guess. I’d just rather not discuss it. Help me turn her on her side, I need to get to the back of her arm now.” Arcade placed his hands underneath Caroline’s shoulder and Mickey leaned forward to help roll her onto her side and keep her steady as he worked.

“Arcade? What’s going on?” Mickey looked over at the new voice and saw Julie poking her head in the tent. She entered a second later and crossed her arms.

“There was a bit of violence down by the train station. She took a bullet to the arm. It’s not bad, but she was in a lot of pain so I gave her a dose of Med-X and a stimpack. I didn’t have the equipment on me to sew her up, so I brought her here.” Arcade explained, not looking up from his work.

“She was here earlier, asking about Roy and Wayne about their assault.” Julie explained and Mickey frowned. Must have been some of the assaults he heard about when he had been here recovering from his own assault.

“Did she find out who did it?” Arcade asked, setting the needle aside and picking up a bit of cloth soaked with the alcohol. He swiped both sets of stitches, and then reached for the bandages.

“Couple of NCR troopers. I sent her to Elizabeth to see if she knew anything, and that was the last I heard.” Julie told him. Mickey sighed.

“Of course. Somebody really needs to do something about those assholes.” Mickey grumbled, settling himself into a chair.

“It seems like she’s trying to. When she was in here, she dropped off a lot of excess medical supplies she had. No stimpacks, but a lot of Med-X and Fixer. I think she wants to make Freeside a better place.” Julie said and stifled a yawn.

“Another late night?” Arcade asked her and she nodded.

“Danielle had her baby last night. Healthy boy. Big one, though. She had a tough go of it but she’s doing okay. I’m surprised to see you uninjured, Mickey.” Julie turned her attention to him again and he shrugged.

“Give it time.” He smirked at her and she sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Keep an eye on him, Arcade. He’s useful to have around. Oh, and congratulations on the sex.” Julie said and turned and breezed out of the tent. Arcade gaped at the door as she left and Mickey laughed.

“It does suit you, you know.” He told the doctor, who turned a glare his way before standing.

Arcade gathered the used supplies and began cleaning the workspace and Mickey gently settled Caroline down on her back. Arcade passed him a thin blanket to cover her with and Mickey tucked it carefully around her. He settled back in the chair and watched her as Arcade cleaned up, comforted in the steady rise and fall of her chest.

“She’ll probably wake in an hour or two, and if she feels up to it, we can get her back to the Lucky 38 so she can rest. I’m sure her friends will be around shortly.” Arcade said once his tasks were completed. He gestured towards the door. “I’m going to go wash up and gather a few things. Don’t wander off.”

“Yes, Doctor.” Mickey smiled at Arcade as he left, watching the blonde shake his head. He laughed again at the doctor’s sound of alarm as he undoubtedly spotted the eyebot that was hovering outside.

Shortly after, Mickey heard footsteps approaching the tent and wasn’t surprised to see the concerned face of the woman in the brown robe as she entered. She was followed by the sniper, but it seemed the rest of the group was waiting patiently outside.

“Is she alright?” Veronica asked and Mickey noticed her hands fidgeting nervously. The sniper’s face was stoic but Mickey could tell by the set of his jaw that he was just as anxious as Veronica.

“Yeah, she’s fine. She’s a tough kid.” Mickey assured them and Veronica let out a sigh of relief.

“Good. We were worried. Everything is all taken care of, although the King wants her to come by when she’s up to it.” Veronica reached out and patted Caroline’s booted foot.

“I plan on bringing her back to the Lucky 38 whenever she wakes up.  I don’t know how the Followers feel about you all waiting around, but I’m not going to say anything.” Mickey told them, watching them both carefully.

“I’ll wait.”

“Okay Boone, well, I think Cass and Raul wanted to go get some dinner. We’ll get some for you too.” Veronica patted the sniper on the shoulder and left. Mickey heard her speaking with the others outside and they walked away. He could still hear the low hum of the eyebot outside though, so he assumed that it was tied to Caroline somehow.

Boone settled himself on the chest of medical supplies, crossing his arms. His eyes were on Caroline, giving Mickey an opportunity to study the other man. Mickey liked to think he could read people, and the stiff posture of the sniper indicated he was worried about Caroline. He couldn’t have been tagging along with Caroline for very long, so Mickey was curious as to why he was so protective of the girl.

“You’re not sleeping with my sister, are you?” Mickey asked and watched Boone lift his head and look over at Mickey with what Mickey assumed was a glare behind those sunglasses.

“No.”

“Just checking.” Mickey shrugged and they both went back to watching Caroline. Arcade came back a few moments later and checked on Caroline, lifting her wrist to check her pulse. He hummed and set her wrist down a few seconds later and Mickey sent him a questioning look.

“Hmm? Oh. Pulse is where it should be. She’s doing fine. No need to worry, she’s just sleeping off the Med-X now. You should go get some dinner, I know you missed lunch today.” Arcade said and curiously peered down at the Pip-Boy on her arm. Mickey shook his head.

“I’ll wait. I’m not leaving her again.”

“Suit yourself.” Arcade said, shrugging. “I’m going to lend a hand while I’m here. Let me know when you’re ready to leave.”

Mickey nodded at Arcade, his eyes on Caroline. She was safer with him around, and between the two of them, they might actually make a difference around Freeside. Even a little bit would be helpful. He was also hesitant to leave her side again. They were just better off together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't an easy chapter for me, and I imagine that some of the others that follow will be difficult too. I know how I want this to end, I've just got to lay all the groundwork first, and I'm struggling to find ways to tell it a little different so you're not just getting a summary of the quests in game. Bear with me, I'll find something that works, I know it.


	14. Land of Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six takes a road trip to investigate Cass's destroyed caravans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look at this! I wrote another chapter! That was fast! And I'm already working on the next one. Looks like inspiration struck!  
> Actually, I'm just kind of stuck inside thanks to a bad sunburn. Wear sunscreen, friends!

_Coming into this cave had been such a stupid idea. Sure, cave fungus was useful, but it wasn’t like she knew what to do with it. Daddy knew how to make hydra somehow, but he was busy gathering the poison glands to radscorpions, which apparently was another requirement for this stuff. It didn’t make any sense to her. They didn’t even need hydra._

_She doubted he would have sent her in here had he known there was a deathclaw living inside._

_She tried to edge back and not wake it up, slowly, with every ounce of fear tamped down so she didn’t scream. She was terrified of these things, rightly so. But luck wasn’t on her side today. As she took a step back, she kicked a rock loose and it clattered against the cave floor._

_She didn’t even bother waiting to see if it woke. She turned and ran._

_She heard its lumbering steps behind her, heard its roar, but she didn’t turn around. Her only chance of survival was getting out of here and hoping Daddy was nearby. Her gun would be useless against it, the 9 millimeter rounds about as useful as her throwing rocks. She spotted light up ahead, the cave entrance, and prayed that Daddy was around._

_No luck, again. Another deathclaw waited, and she slid to a halt. It growled at her and she tried to sidestep, run around it, but its claw came down and -_

“No!” Six shouted, launching herself from the bed and onto the dirt floor of the tent she was in. She struggled to breathe and her hands swiped at her stomach, checking for wounds that had long since healed.

“Christ, Caroline!” She felt hands on her shoulder and jerked around to see Mickey crouching beside her, familiar brown eyes looking down at her in concern. Just on the edge of her vision, she saw another person and turned to see Boone standing nearby as well.

“Are you alright?” Boone asked, kneeling down next to her, pulling off his shades to peer at her. She settled herself on the ground and fought to bring her breathing under control. That had been so real…

“Yeah. Fine. I think.” She sighed and looked at her surroundings. It was somewhat dark inside there, but it had the trappings of a medical tent. Her left arm twinged helpfully and she glanced down at the cut sleeve of her leather armor and the bandages wrapped around her upper arm.

Ah, there it was. Now she remembered. The train station. She had caught a bullet in the arm, and then Arcade had given her Med-X and she passed out.

“How long was I out?” She asked, dragging her fingers through the dirt beneath her absently. She assumed she was at the Followers’ camp

“About three hours. Here, drink this or Arcade is going to throw a fit.” Mickey stood and moved over to a table, where a bottle of water waited. She took it and drank a few hesitant sips, relieving her dry throat.

“Did everything get settled up at the train station?” Six capped the bottle and tried to climb to her feet, mostly unsuccessful, until Boone and Mickey took an arm each and lifted her to her feet. She settled herself down on the cot she had been on, running her hands over her face to chase away whatever sleep still clung to her.

“For the most part. Pacer started it, from what we could tell, but I doubt Major Keiran’s troops helped matters. Things are quiet now, but they won’t be for long.” Boone answered, reaching up to adjust his sunglasses. She found herself wondering (not for the first time since they met either) why he was constantly wearing those, daylight or no. It had to make it harder to see at night, right?

She supposed it was just another piece of his armor.

“I need to go speak with the King about this. What time is it?” She sighed again and lifted her Pip-Boy to check. A little after eight, which explained the darkness. It hadn’t been quite dark yet when she was out at the train station.

“You need to get back to either my place or the 38, eat some food, and rest a bit more. You lost a good bit of blood, so you need to focus on rebuilding that. The King can wait until tomorrow, I know he won’t mind.” Mickey insisted. Six yawned and stood up, doing her best not to waver.

“You’re probably right. In the morning, then.” She patted her leg and found her gun missing. Her pack was gone too, but she was more worried about her pistol.

“Here.” Boone handed the weapon over grip first, and she ejected the magazine and checked her rounds out of habit. It was fully loaded, so it seemed like she didn’t even get a shot off. Probably a good thing, it wouldn’t have helped the situation.

“I’ve got your gear. Let me go find Arcade and we can get you back.” Mickey lifted her backpack onto his shoulders and pushed his way out of the tent, holding the flap open so she and Boone could exit.

The eyebot chirped when it saw her, and zoomed over to hover by her head. She smiled and reached up to pat the metal casing. If robots had emotions, she’d say that it was happy to see her.

“I’m surprised you actually got the thing to work.” Mickey nodded towards the robot. She shrugged.

“Eddie just needed some TLC.” Six told him and he turned to look at her with a curious look.

“You gave it a name?” Mickey asked. She nodded at him.

“Yeah. He’s got the plate attached to his frame. It says ED-E. Eddie. Wasn’t that much of a leap.” She explained, wondering what the deal was. Why couldn’t it have a name?

“It’s Enclave. We should turn it to scrap.” Boone said. Six rolled her eyes and Mickey shook his head.

“It’s harmless.” They said at the same time and then looked at each other and grinned.

“Oh, are we destroying the robot? I’m in. Here, I’ll lend a hand.” Arcade approached and drew his plasma defender. Six stepped to the side so she was standing in front of the eyebot. Eddie beeped in alarm.

“Leave him alone. What’s he done to you?” She demanded, glancing behind her to see the eyebot bobbing behind her. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was nervous.

“You didn’t give her any more drugs, did you?” Arcade asked, eyeing the eyebot warily but holstering his weapon.

“No, he didn’t. I’m fine. I just want food and more sleep. And maybe a bath, I feel gross.” Six said, releasing Eddie so he could hover by her again. She liked the eyebot.

“Alright, well, lets get you home, and I’ll check on your wound in better light.” Arcade gestured forward and Six set off towards the Strip. It was hard to think of the place as home, but it was a little more permanent than any of her other lodgings had been, although she was sure House would make her give it up eventually.

Might as well enjoy it now.

* * *

The next morning Six found herself in front of the King, Mickey at her shoulder. He had insisted on coming with her and it seemed that Mickey was familiar with some of the Kings, judging by the way they smiled and waved at him as they entered.

The ‘hey, what’s goin’ on, Rosales?’ was also a clue.

“I heard all about what happened. Maybe it’s time for a little more talkin’ and a little less fightin’.” The King told her when she approached. She had to agree with him there. Fighting was half the Mojave’s problem. Well, more like three-quarters of it.

“You’ve helped us plenty, so I’ll tell you what. Just this once, name whatever you want, and if I can make it happen, it’s done. Don’t rush it though. Toss it around in your head a little. You only get one favor from the King.”

Six blinked at the King, dumbstruck. It was a huge offer, and she felt like she didn’t even do that much for him. She looked over at Mickey, who was just as stunned from her.

“Of course. Thank you. I didn’t even do all that much, really.” She smiled and reached out to shake his hand.

“Might not seem like all that much to you, but you did us a world of good ‘round these parts. Heard you took a bullet too. Putting your life on the line like that for us? Gets you a favor.” The King waved his hand at her modesty. She thanked him again and they parted, after she knelt down to pat Rex’s flank.

“That’s huge, you know that, right? He doesn’t do that for just anyone who lends a hand.” Mickey said as they left the building. Six nodded.

“I’m going to think about it. Maybe save it for a rainy day. C’mon, lets get back. Cass had said she wanted to look around the area for some clues as to what happened to her caravans.”

The two walked through Freeside, alone except for the Eddie, who she refused to let out of sight now that everyone seemed to want to destroy it. Seriously, what was the harm in it? It was an eyebot. Sure, it was an Enclave technology, but it hadn’t gone into kill mode and turned everyone to ash with the laser underneath it.

Inside the Lucky 38, her friends were finishing breakfast and gearing up for whatever the day’s tasks were. Six wasn’t particularly hungry that morning, but she ate a few pieces of fruit while everyone finished up what they were doing and met back at the table.

“Cass, you up to going out to the wreckage today?” Six asked, once they were all assembled. Cass nodded, her face somber.

“I’ll come with you.” Mickey said. She wasn’t surprised. He was insistent on going everywhere with her, although thankfully he hadn’t followed her to the bathroom yet. She had to draw the line somewhere.

“I’ll come too.” Arcade offered and Six nodded her head over at him, acknowledging his  decision.

“How about the rest of you go onto the Strip, do some investigating. See if the rumors at Gomorrah and the Ultra-Luxe have any weight to them. Enjoy yourselves, too.” Six said to the rest of them. Veronica straightened in her seat, excited.

“The NCR Embassy is down on the other end of the Strip. I’ll start there.” Boone said. Going there would be a good start, although Six was willing to bet he’d ask his questions and then come back and wait. Probably anxiously. She had to admit, she liked having him shadow her, as he was incredibly perceptive and picked up on any trouble before it got close, but she couldn’t just bring everyone with her.

“I get to go to the casinos. This is so cool. Where should I start? Gomorrah? The Tops?” Veronica grinned and practically bounced in her seat.

“You’re not going to Gomorrah by yourself, kid. I’ll keep an eye on her.” Raul said and Veronica deflated a little.

“Okay. I guess you’re right. I really don’t want to be sold into sex slavery or whatever it is they’re doing there these days.” Veronica conceded.

“As far as I know, nobody there is a slave, but if you hear about any, let me know.” Mickey spoked up then, and Six looked over at him curiously. The vehemence in his voice was something she’d ask him about. Not that it was strange to hear about someone not liking slaves. He just sounded like he had a little experience in the matter.

“Me too.” Boone agreed. He didn’t like slaves either, no surprise there.

“Alright then. We have our plans. I’m not sure what time we’ll be back, so don’t wait up.” Six slapped her hands on the table and pushed herself out of the chair. Everyone filed out of the room and Six went to hers to gear herself up appropriately.

She slung her scoped hunting rifle over her shoulder and tucked her 10mm pistol into her leg holster and buckled that on. Mickey came into the room with her as she added extra ammo to her bag.

“The service rifle is in decent shape, if you want to use it.” She offered, waving at the weapon laying in the trunk at the foot of the bed. Mickey stepped forward and lifted it out and raised the weapon to his shoulder, looking down the sights.

“Sure. Might as well. Extra mags?” He asked, slipping the strap of the rifle over his shoulders to settle the weapon on his back. She pointed towards the end of the trunk and he gathered a few up and stuck them in his own bag.

“Arcade, Cass, you need any weapons or ammo?” She called. Cass just laughed at her. Arcade appeared in the doorway.

“I have enough should we run into a fight, but I’m not equipped for a full scale battle.” He told her, and she dug through the trunk until she found a small pile of energy cells and handed them over.

“I don’t have any energy weapons, and none of us use them, so any I find are yours.” She told him, and he tucked them away in his pockets for easy access.

“If everyone’s good to go, let’s hit the road.” Six said, closing the trunk and settling her bag on her back. She adjusted her rifle’s sling so she could reach it for easy access and checked her Pip-Boy map. Cass had given her the location and she marked it on there for use later. It was a bit of a walk, but she was good at that.

* * *

 

The caravan wreckage was less gory than Six had thought it would be. Of course, that depended on your definition of gore. There were a few ash piles and a dead pack brahmin, crates scattered around. She’d seen worse.

“God, there’s almost nothing left. looks like whoever it was….was just in the mood for killing. Most of the cargo’s ash too. Not burned...disintegrated. When I heard ‘ash’, I assumed they meant ‘burned’.” Six watched Cass circle the scene, while she, Mickey and Arcade kept back a respectful distance.

“So close to the Vegas wall too...don’t that  beat all. Must have happened during the day too, they hadn’t made camp.” Cass sounded like she was mostly talking to herself now as she inspected the damage.

“Why would they do it during the day?” Six asked and Cass straighten up and came over to stand by Six, hands on her hips.

“No idea. Maybe catch the sun in their eyes? Maybe they wanted the caravan to come to them, to catch them in an ambush? Let’s check out the cargo. If we find anything, its yours. Least I can do for you hoofing it all this way with me.” Cass turned around and went back to the crates and started to look through things.

“You don’t have to do that.” Six said and Cass shrugged.

“Like i said, least I can do.”

Six didn’t find much of value, not that she was expecting anything. It would have been picked clean already. Just a few bottle caps, a bottle of vodka that had somehow survived the destruction, and some spare ammo. She tucked it all away in her pack and looked for the others.

Arcade was kneeling by a pile of ash, inspecting it carefully. Mickey was standing not far off, eyes scanning the area for any particular dangers.

“You know what? What happened to my caravan? Not the first time I’ve heard about an attack like that. One of our caravans got hit a few months back, and the caravan had been burned and the cargo too.” Cass said suddenly. Six looked over at her, curious.

"Wanna go check that one out too?” Six asked, fingers tapping on the grip of her pistol.

“Are you thinking that whoever did this made the same mistake and used energy weapons too?” Arcade asked, standing up.

“What makes you say that?” Mickey came closer, looking at the ash and wreckage.

“I use an energy weapon, I think I’d recognize the signs they leave behind.” Arcade said dryly.

“Oh. Maybe you did it.” Six joked. Arcade sighed and threw his hands up.

“Yes, you caught me. I am the vicious caravan attacker who enjoys killing people so much I moonlight as a doctor. Seriously though, we should go look at the other caravan wreckage. Energy weapons aren’t exactly common, you can narrow down a list of suspects if it’s a similar scene.” Arcade crossed his arms and looked over at Cass. Six heard Mickey mutter something that sounded very similar to ‘see if I let you treat me again’ and smiled.

“Yeah, might as well. It’s a hell of a detour though. You up for it?” Cass asked. Six shrugged.

“I’m a courier. Or I was. Walking is what I do. It’s no trouble.”

Hell of a detour meant on the other side of New Vegas. It was early afternoon by the time they made it out there, but the scene was the same. Dead pack brahmin, cargo turned to ash.

“More energy weapons hit this caravan. Place has been picked clean, too, but you said this happened months back, right?” Arcade said, stepping carefully around the piles of ash. Six shook her head. Who would do this?

“This is….Brotherhood level murder here. But they don’t do stuff like this. This was done with purpose.” Cass sounded lost, and Six didn’t blame her.

“The Brotherhood wouldn’t have done this. It’d draw too much attention to themselves.” Mickey said, circling around the area with keen eyes.

“What’s that? Looks like a map - got the route along the west of Vegas and -” Mickey lifted the map up and Cass came over to look at it with him.

“There’s another spot marked over here, along this stretch. That’s fucked up...out in the middle of nowhere.” She said and Six moved over to look at it too.

“We should go look at it.” Mickey said and they all murmured agreement.

“Hey. There’s a plasma rifle and some drained energy cells over here.” Arcade called, lifting the weapon carefully.

“Something’s wrong. I can feel it.” Cass sighed. “It’s not any closer, but we should really check it out.”

“I agree. At least we know it’s not the Legion. They don’t use energy weapons.” Six said, although she wasn’t exactly sure if that was true or not. She didn’t have a ton of experience with them. She was happy to keep it that way.

“Well, lets go see what this other place looks like.” Mickey said and the party continued on with a considerably darker mood than they set out with.

The caravan marked on the map was just a little way out from the east gate of Freeside, but this one was different. The bodies, in various stages of decomposition, weren’t ash. There was still plenty of that, though.

“Another caravan burned. Except someone made camp here. I never heard about this one. Let’s look around. Something stinks.” Cass said, stalking off to look around. Six kept her comment about dead bodies to herself and moved to look around too.

“That does it. That’s all I need to know. Crimson Caravan and the Van Graffs….they were behind burning these caravans and they’ve got to answer for them. I’m gonna get some extra ammo, a few bottles of whiskey, and show them how Cassidys settle accounts.” Cass growled and Six lifted her hands to stop Cass.

“Okay...that’s a little extreme. There’s another way. We can get evidence, let the NCR take them down.” Six said, not comfortable with staging an attack against the Crimson Caravan, since she didn’t see any overt sign of them. She wasn’t familiar with the Van Graffs, but she assumed they owned the Silver Rush, the energy weapon store in Freeside.

“NCR? Are you out of your fucking mind?” Cass exclaimed.

“Cass is right. It’d take years, and with the war with the Legion, there’s no way they’d waste the time to investigate this and deal with it properly.” Mickey said and Six whipped her head over to look at him. He just shrugged and looked away, surveying the scene more.

“If I get the evidence, will you consider it?”

“Alright, if you poke around the Van Graffs and Alice, fine. But if I see either one go into the other’s camp? I’m going to start shooting, no matter what you find.” Cass growled and stalked away. Six shook her head and started to follow.

“Good. We avoided murder today.” Arcade muttered, following. Mickey hurried up to her and leaned in close.

“How do you plan to find this evidence? Go up and ask? You don’t want to fuck with the Van Graffs, Caroline, trust me.” He hissed and she rolled her eyes.

“I’ll come up with something. I usually do.” She replied and he shook his head at her.

“No. You’re going back to the 38. I’ll deal with this.” He said and she stopped in the middle of the road. Cass kept walking and Arcade paused, looking between Caroline and Mickey and Cass.

“No? Um, I’ll do what I need to do, with or without your permission. I’m not a child.” She growled at him, keeping her voice mostly level. She curled her hands into fists.

“You can’t do this. Go back to the 38 and wait, I’ll get you your evidence, for whatever good it will do.” Mickey stopped in front of her and Six took a deep breath to control her anger. She wasn’t a goddamned kid, she could handle this herself.

“I don’t need you protecting me. I can do it.” She tried to push past him, to follow Cass, but Mickey reached out and grabbed her upper arms.

“The last time you said that to me, you went off on a job and wound up shot in the head. Tell me, how exactly do you plan on getting any information from Alice McLafferty? Or the Van Graffs? Just gonna go up and ask them? That’s not how they work. Let me sneak in tonight and see what I can find.” Mickey said and she froze. They weren’t words she had ever remembered saying. She sighed and nodded.

“Fine. You win. You go do it. Dammit.” She shoved her way past him, breaking his grip on her and hurried up to find Cass.

* * *

 They found themselves arriving back at the Lucky 38 just as the others were arriving. Veronica gave a cheery wave and hurried over to them, her cheeks pink. Boone and Raul followed.

“Oh, good, you’re back in time for dinner! I should probably eat something. Those drinks at Gomorrah were so strong!” She said to them, louder than she probably intended, and Six threw her arm around Veronica and guided her inside.

“Yeah, lets get you some food.” Six said, smiling at the tipsy woman and ducked in the doors.

Dinner was a short affair, with the group just cooking whatever was on hand. Six and Mickey had scavenged some ingredients during their trek today and the mix of fresh vegetables and various Pre-War ingredients turned out pretty well.

Boone found her in the master bedroom gathering her supplies for a bath after dinner. He leaned against the desk as she stacked a folded towel and the clothes she was planning on sleeping in on the corner of the bed.

“So, what did you hear?” She asked, looking for the bar of soap she stashed in one of the cabinets. She learned early on that Veronica left the soap sitting in a pool of water and it often eroded away.

“Nothing to confirm any of the rumors. So-and-so’s buddy saw the snuff video type thing, but funny enough, the buddy wasn’t around to speak for himself.” Boone replied. Six sighed and then gave a cry of triumph when she found the soap in the corner, wrapped in her washcloth.

“And the Ultra-Luxe?”

“More of the same. Nothing solid. You’ll have to go in and do some digging.” Boone pushed himself back to his feet and turned to leave.

“Thanks. I’ll see what I can get done tomorrow. Gotta help Cass first.” She said and picked up her bath supplies. She followed him from the room and found Mickey and Arcade by the elevator, talking quietly amongst themselves. Six narrowed her eyes at him as she passed, wondering what he was up to when he reached out to stop Boone. When she paused, Mickey turned and looked at her pointedly.

“Fine. Whatever.” She snapped irritably and swept into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She tossed her towel and clothing onto a nearby chair and stomped over to the bathtub and turned on the taps.

One of the good things about the Lucky 38 was the hot water. Caroline was able to fill the tub with steaming water and settle herself into it with a sigh. The warmth was relaxing. It hadn’t been too cold a day, but she could feel the chill in the air. Winter was definitely approaching. Had she ever seen snow before? There was an old ski lodge up in the mountains, maybe they could take a trip up there. A vacation of sorts.

She snorted. Right. Because a vacation was totally feasible right now. She doubted the Mojave would explode into chaos if she left for a few days, as it had been fine before she decided to intervene, but did she really want to take that chance?

Caroline gathered her bar of soap and washcloth and lathered it up and lifted her leg out of the tub to scrub at it. She repeated with the other leg, and then washed her arms and chest, careful of the stitches. Arcade had given her another stimpack this morning and he had said the stitches could probably come out tomorrow morning, given her rate of healing.

She swiped the cloth across her stomach and then paused and looked down at the three long scars running across. From a deathclaw attack, Mickey had told her. And then that dream she had yesterday, while sleeping off the Med-X. She frowned at the scars.

What other things, important things, did she not remember? She touched at her neck and felt the necklace she wore, the simple chain with the three shell casings. Who was it from? Did it mean anything. Caroline sighed and took a breath, and then slipped underneath the water, holding her nose closed so she didn’t accidentally drown herself.

Underneath the surface, it was quiet. She didn’t hear the radio in one of the other rooms, or Cass and Raul arguing good-naturedly over the merits of whiskey versus tequila. The only thing she heard was the blood rushing in her head. Caroline willed the memories to return, she dug deep into everything she could remember, hoping something else would trigger them.

Nothing.

She surfaced when she couldn’t hold her breath any longer, taking deep lungfuls of air. After she settled her breathing, she reached for the bar of soap to wash her hair.

Maybe if she recreated the effects, took another dose of the Med-X, she’d remember something else. It was worth a shot, right? She had some extra Med-X stashed here, since carrying them around was dangerous enough. Here she was safe.

Rinsing her hair, Caroline pulled out the stopper from the drain and pulled herself out of the tub and reached for her towel to dry herself and then wrapped the towel around her hair and twisted, wringing whatever water she could out of it. She then shook it out and threw it back over shoulder. Tossing the towel aside, she picked up her clothes and threw them on quickly.

She stepped out of the bathroom, still hearing Cass and Raul arguing. The radio was going in the lounge and she darted to her room and closed the door behind her to drown out the sound. She didn’t lock the door, as Veronica would come to bed sooner or later.

Finding the Med-X with the rest of her medical supplies, she injected it quickly into her left elbow and then settled herself in bed to wait for the effects.

At first, there was just a cool, numbing sensation over her entire body, and then her thoughts began to get fuzzy. She thought it was similar to getting drunk, but she hadn’t ever been before, not that she could remember.

Except...there was that one time….Dad had gone...somewhere. She was alone with a bottle of whiskey and Jimmy came over but she was already drunk. She hadn’t been sure how much was okay and over did it.

She remembered laughing at something that wasn’t funny and then Jimmy was getting real close, but things were getting fuzzy and she could feel herself falling asleep. She wanted to remember, but the drug was a sedative as well as a pain reliever, and it pulled her under faster than she could have anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do the tumblr thing, so if you want to follow me, I'll put it here. It's not necessarily Fallout related, its just a bit of everything. 
> 
> ladylaiacona.tumblr.com


	15. Movin' On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey knows how to get himself into trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look at that. Smut!

Mickey didn’t envy his father when he thought about what he might have went through during Caroline’s teenage years. He imagined there was quite a lot of irritated door slamming like she just did to him. And probably quite a bit more attitude, although she couldn't imagine Caroline being disrespectful. At least not on purpose.

He waited until he heard the taps turn on in the bathroom before turning to face the sniper, who was looking rather annoyed. Mickey couldn’t be sure why exactly he was annoyed, there was no telling with Boone and his limited range of facial expressions, but it probably had something to do with either irritating Caroline or stopping him from going about his business.

“Can you do me a solid? Keep an eye on her. Don’t let her leave. I don’t know if you know anything about the Van Graffs, but they’re not people I want her crossing.” Mickey told the man in hushed tones just in case Caroline was listening. Boone nodded slowly.

“I know enough to agree with you. Never met the two in Freeside personally, but I know the reputation. I’ll do my best but I bet you know how she is better than I do.” Boone replied in the same hushed tones.

“She might not even try to leave. I can’t be sure. But unless there’s an emergency, it’s best if she stays in tonight.” Mickey released Boone and nodded towards the elevator.

“Arcade and I are going to go see what we can dig up.

“No, you’re going to do the digging. I’m going to hide in a shady corner and hope nothing terrible happens.” Arcade interrupted and Mickey glared at him.

“If something happens, which it won’t, we’ll hide out at my apartment until the coast is clear. I’ll try and be back by morning with whatever I can find.” Mickey finished up what he had to say and turned to the securitron.

“We’re going down.”

“Sure thing!” It announced cheerily.

“Good luck.” Boone said and Mickey turned around and gave the man a grin.

“My birthmark is a lucky clover. I was born lucky.” The elevator doors opened and Mickey stepped into it, followed by Arcade, who was looking at Mickey curiously.

“I’ve never seen this birthmark.” Arcade said when the doors closed and the elevator car began its descent. Mickey turned his smile over to the doctor.

“It’s on my hip. Not my fault you’re not paying attention.” Mickey teased, gesturing to an area just below the waistband of his pants. Arcade rolled his eyes.

“Oh, because your hip is what I’m paying attention to when you take off your pants.”

* * *

 

Mickey wasn’t sure what he expected to find, but he wasn’t expecting Cass to be right, despite the evidence at each scene. He crept out of the Crimson Caravan offices as quietly as he could, a few pieces of paper folded up and stuffed into his back pocket.

Most of the encampment was asleep, so he was able to come and go easy enough. His father had trained him to step lightly, keep quiet and move quickly, and he used the skills now, ducking out of the gate with only a small amount of noise.

He met Arcade around the corner, where the doctor was pacing. There wasn’t much of a chance of any violence this close to the walls, but the blonde man had his plasma weapon in hand.  Mickey called out softly so he didn’t spook the man and Arcade turned, relaxing his gun arm.

“Find anything?” He asked. Mickey scowled and nodded, reaching into his back pocket to flash the paper. It was too dark to read it out here, but Mickey had skimmed it when he was inside. Sure enough, it was a plan with the Van Graffs to drive out Cassidy Caravans. Scumbags.

“Just this. Easy enough. Silver Rush will be harder, I imagine.” Mickey tucked the paper back into his pocket and waved Arcade back towards the gates.

“It’s unfortunate that the Silver Rush is the only place around here I can get replacement parts for my weapon.” Arcade said quietly as they traveled through Freeside. Mickey shrugged. He didn’t have an issue finding parts for his pistol, or his father’s old sniper rifle underneath the bed. Mick and Ralph generally had parts or other weapons he could cannibalize for parts. If they didn’t, he’d make the trip over to the pricier Gun Runners and see what they had for him.

“I’ll see what I can find while I’m in there.” Mickey told Arcade, who narrowed his eyes.

“You can’t just take it, Mickey.” Arcade scolded. Mickey rolled his eyes and tugged his backpack off, digging inside it as they walked.

“Sure I can. They’re a bunch of murderers. They’re lucky I’m not slitting their throats in their sleep.” Mickey found what he was looking for and pulled it out with a grin. A Stealth Boy. He’d never used one before, but he was familiar with how they worked. It’d help him slip inside the Silver Rush without alerting any of the guards that may be inside.

“And that makes you better than them how?” Arcade demanded. Mickey sighed and looked away, running a hand through his hair. It was getting longer than he preferred, he’d have to cut it soon.

“I never claimed I was better than them.” Mickey said and attached the device to his wrist. He checked his pockets to make sure he still had the bobby pins and screwdriver he used to pick locks, another useful skill his father had taught him (and one Mickey practiced all over Havasu and whenever he could).

"You’re still a good man.”

“Not even close. Keep an eye out, would you?” Mickey said lightly, smirking at Arcade and activating the device. Arcade glared at the space he had been.

“This conversation isn’t over.” Arcade hissed and Mickey crept away. Around the corner, he waited for Arcade to initiate his part of the plan.

Both men knew that there was a constant door guard, so Arcade was to go distract him any way possible while Mickey snuck in behind him, hopefully quiet enough that he was unnoticed. Once inside, he’d sneak around any guards and find whatever safe had the incriminating information.

When Mickey saw that the door guard’s attention was firmly on Arcade (who was asking various questions on the merits of laser versus plasma weapons), he pushed open the door and darted in as quickly as he could. There were two guards inside, and one guard glared at the door irritably.

“...fuckin’ freezin out there.” He muttered and wrenched the door closed. Mickey darted to the left, towards the shelf of grenades and mines and looked towards his objectives.

He’d been in here once before, and knew the first door on the left here lead to a mostly empty back room with a bathroom. It was the second door in the corner that he wanted. It lead to another back room and he assumed the office was back there. However, there was a guard standing by that door too. Mickey chewed on his lip, trying to think of a solution, when one presented itself.

“I gotta take a piss. Keep an eye out, would ya?” The guard called suddenly, and propped his rifle up by the door and walked away. Not really believing his luck, he knelt down in front of the door and got to work on the lock.

Once inside the backroom, Mickey spotted the safe and dropped down in front of it. He didn’t have much time. He inserted the bobby pin and the head of the screwdriver and searched for the sweet spot that would let him turn the lock and open the safe, but he couldn’t quite find it. The Stealth Boy made things a little harder to concentrate on, and the sweat dripping into his eyes wasn’t helping things much.

He managed to open the lock at the same time the door guard returned from his bathroom break. Cursing silently, he rifled through the safe until he found what he was looking for and stuffed it in his back pocket.

Creeping over to the door, he considered his options. They still couldn’t see him, but he wasn’t sure how much longer the Stealth Boy would last for him. His best option was to run like hell, really. He couldn’t fit through that little window. Caroline could have, though. She was certainly small enough to have crept in through that window in the first place.

He couldn’t wait any longer to think of another option. He hoped Arcade was long gone, as per the plan, so he wouldn’t catch any fallout from this if it went south. He took a breath and wrenched open the door.

“What the fuck?” The man by the door exclaimed and Mickey landed a solid punch on the man’s jaw, sending him reeling backwards. He bolted around the corner towards the shelving again.

“There’s someone in here!” The other two guards raised their rifles, searching. Mickey knew there was a telltale shimmer around him that one could find if they were really looking for it, so he’d have to cause a distraction somehow.

Plasma grenades. Mickey crept over to the shelf, eyes on both guards, and scooped one up, pulled the pin, and tossed it over his shoulder as quick as he could manage. It detonated, and as both men threw their arms up to shield their eyes, Mickey shoved past them and out the door.

He kept running and didn’t stop until he was around the block, where he slid to a halt and crouched behind some concrete to gather his breath and wait to see if he had any pursuers. He was meeting Arcade outside the Follower’s camp but he didn’t want to drag trouble there. Mickey heard the shouting and knew the other guards were being woken and put on duty to search for him, but it wasn’t like they knew what he looked like, right?

The Stealth Boy fizzled out and Mickey pulled the contraption off his wrist and took a few steps out into the open and hurled the now useless device over the wall. Then, straightening his clothes, he tucked his hands into his pockets and made himself appear like he was just on a stroll

As he walked past the road leading down to the Silver Rush, Mickey looked over and saw several of the guards scrambling around, looking for any trace of whoever had just broke in. Mickey stifled a smirk and kept walking, through the gate that separated Freeside and out the other side, heading towards Arcade.

“Any problems?” Arcade asked when Mickey was near enough, and Mickey allowed himself to look a little sheepish.

“Just a bit. We should probably lie low for a little while. Let’s head back to my place, wait for the sun to come up. Boone’s keeping an eye on Caroline, I think it’ll be okay.” Mickey shrugged and tossed a look behind him to see if any of the Van Graffs had come through. NOthing yet, but he didn’t doubt they were coming.

“What did you do?” Arcade demanded, hands on his hips now. Mickey sighed and grabbed the doctor’s arm and started steering him towards the apartment.

“I may have detonated a plasma grenade in order to cover my escape. I don’t think anyone was hurt. Well, maybe one person. He was kind of close. They didn’t see me, but I don’t want to chance it.” Mickey replied, hurrying along. Arcade kept up with him.

“There wasn’t anything else you could do?” Arcade asked, exasperated, and Mickey shook his head and reached into his pocket for his apartment key.

“Not that I could think of. I was running out of time. C’mon, get inside.” Mickey quickly opened the door, and with another furtive glance over his shoulder, he pulled it closed and bolted it.

The lamp wasn’t working, so it was mostly dark inside the apartment, the only light filtering in through the curtains. Mickey wondered if the light bulb finally gave out or if Freeside was just having another blackout. Both were equally likely. His other pocket held his lighter and he dug that out and lit it, using the tiny amount of light to see his way to the cabinet which held the few tallow candles he had for such occasions.

With those lit, the small apartment was bathed in a soft glow. Mickey pulled off his backpack and set it on the kitchen table and put both pieces of paperwork next to it.

He turned around again to see Arcade staring at him with his arms crossed, looking decidedly unimpressed.

“It’s almost romantic. If I didn’t know better, I’d think this was your plan all along.” Arcade said and Mickey allowed his lips to curl up into a smile.

“Almost romantic? I could turn on the radio, but I don’t think Radio New Vegas is very good mood music.” Mickey tucked his hands casually into his pockets and approached Arcade. It wasn’t his intention at all, but hey, he wasn’t about to knock an opportunity to do the horizontal tango with Arcade.

“I’m still angry with you.” Arcade said simply, but there was something in that tone and those blue eyes that sent a delicious thrill down Mickey’s spine. Mickey adopted a predatory look and closed the gap between them, and for a brief moment, Arcade looked startled, and then he caught on to the game.

It was a perfect way to kill time until sunrise.

For a brief moment, they held eye contact, waiting to see if the other would make a move. Arcade broke the gaze, blue eyes turning down to stare at Mickey’s mouth and Mickey lunged forward, kissing Arcade hungrily. Mickey’s hands moved up and gripped the doctor’s hair, holding him in place as he forced Arcade’s mouth open with his tongue. Arcade groaned and grabbed the waistband of Mickey’s pants, pulling him flush against him. Mickey grinned in triumph at the hardness he felt pressing against his hip and nipped at Arcade’s lip.

“You think this is going to make me not angry?” Arcade asked breathily as Mickey moved from Arcade’s mouth, down the line of his jaw and to his neck, scraping the skin with his teeth.

“I’m betting it will solve everything.” Mickey told him, saying the words against Arcade’s ear. Arcade shivered and rocked his hips forward, grinding himself against Mickey’s hipbone. Mickey pushed Arcade backwards and the two of them stumbled to the bed.

Clothes were pulled off, hands scrambling over flesh and Mickey didn’t bother to be quiet with his appreciation of Arcade’s body. Arcade felt so good underneath him (so right), so responsive, and he couldn’t help the noises tumbling from his throat when he finally seated himself completely within Arcade, watching the other man’s lovely blue eyes flutter closed as he gasped for breath, one hand fisted in the sheets, the other tangled in Mickey’s hair.

Sweat slicked their skin and their hips rocked together, each motion drawing a breathy moan from the blonde man underneath him. Mickey took one hand and wrapped it around Arcade’s length, twisting his wrist in time with his hips and Arcade’s moans grew louder. The sounds he was making would be Mickey’s undoing and his hips snapped forward more aggressively.

It was over quicker than Mickey expected, but when Arcade changed the angle of his hips, looking for even more, he knew the other man was so very close to the edge. And who was Mickey to deny him that pleasure? Leaning over, he pressed his lips against Arcade’s, tongue tracing over them, tasting them. Arcade cried out, his body shuddering, muscles tightening underneath Mickey, and the sounds, the feelings, the fucking smell of the man underneath him, it was all too much and Mickey came with a groan and a curse, spilling himself inside Arcade.

“You’re right, you know.” Arcade mumbled, sighing when Mickey pulled himself away and laid next to Arcade on the bed, the sweat on their skin cooling them. In a moment the chill would be uncomfortable and he’d have to find himself a damp cloth to clean them both and some clothes, but for now, he enjoyed the intimacy.

“About what?” Mickey asked, rolling onto his side and sweeping some damp locks out of his face. Arcade had a blissful smile on his face and his half-lidded eyes stared up at the ceiling. Arcade’s left hand lifted from the bed and he began stroking Mickey’s chest softly with his knuckles.

“I’m not mad anymore.”

“I like to think I’m a decent problem solver.” Mickey grinned and pushed himself out of bed and over to the bathroom to clean up.

* * *

 

Mickey was out of bed at sunrise, despite the small amount of sleep he got. In a cheerful mood, he went over to his stove to make coffee to chase away the chill that had settled over the house. Arcade muttered something in his sleep and rolled over to the warm spot Mickey had just vacated, pulling the various blankets higher up around himself.

He’d have to get over to the Lucky 38 soon, otherwise Caroline was bound to get restless. He had to give the evidence to Cass and see what she wanted to do with it. Mickey couldn’t think of anyone who’d do anything about what the Van Graffs and Crimson Caravans were up to, but at least they tried to do something about it.

With his fingers around a warm cup of coffee, he sat down at the small table and stared over at Arcade. He felt himself growing closer to the man, despite the fact that he knew next to nothing about him. Oh, sure, he explained a little bit when Mickey asked, but he was vague. Mickey knew all about secrets and the need to keep them. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t damn curious.

Finishing his first cup, he set it on the counter and rose to walk over to the bed. Leaning over, he brushed a kiss against Arcade’s forehead and shook him gently to wake him.

“Coffee’s on the stove. I’m going to catch a shower.” Mickey said quietly, smiling when Arcade’s eyes blinked open. Another kiss, this one to the other man’s cheek and Mickey stepped away, entering his bathroom.

The water was cool, as it usually was in the mornings, but he didn’t mind so much. He had gotten used to bathing in rivers and lakes whenever he could find them and hot water was a luxury he didn’t particularly need. It also helped wake him up better than a warm shower could. When he stepped out five minutes later, he dried off quickly and then wrapped the towel around his waist. A quick shave followed his shower, and he ran his hands through his hair a few times before stepping out of the bathroom.

“Shower is all yours.” Mickey remarked as he got dressed, tugging on a pair of boxers and then a pair of dark brown cargo pants. A light grey long-sleeved shirt came on after that, followed by a green t-shirt. Arcade muttered something sleepily and shuffled over to the bathroom, cup of coffee in hands.

Arcade wasn’t a morning person. Mickey knew this by now, and it was just adorable. Once he was awake though, Arcade was ready to go. He was showered and dressed and after two cups of coffee, fairly chipper.

Or maybe that was the sex. There was no way in telling.

“So, what’s the plan?” Arcade asked when he was completely dressed. Mickey watched him make the bed (Mickey never bothered with that) and sit on a corner of it to pull on his boots and lace them up.

“We drop off this information and see what Caroline wants to do with it. Cassidy might know who to go.” Mickey picked up the information and his pack. He was ready to go and Arcade stood up.

“I’d imagine somewhere higher in the NCR chain of command would be a good place to start.” Arcade said, walking towards the door. He pulled it open and shivered at the blast of cool air. “I could really do without the cold.”

“C’mon. Caroline gets impatient. I don’t want her wandering off anywhere.”

“Where would she go? You have what she’s looking for.” Arcade said as they moved through Freeside.

“She’ll go looking for it herself, and the last thing I want is for the Van Graffs to think she broke in there last night.” Mickey told him, trying to avoid shuddering at the thought. The Van Graffs were very dangerous people, and energy weapons weren’t anything to laugh at. He’d seen the results of plasma burns and they weren’t pretty.

“Probably not the best idea, although...maybe it’s not my place to say this, but you don’t need to protect her as much as you think. Sure, maybe being shot in the head was a setback, but she’s handled herself well since.” Arcade said. Mickey scowled.

“I don’t expect you to understand. You don’t have siblings...someone you have to protect. It’s...when the Legion had me, it was hell not knowing if she made it to Dad. I didn’t know, not until I escaped and found her.” Mickey stopped walking, his hands clenching into fists.

It was a brother’s natural instinct to protect his little sister. He’d cheerfully let the entire world burn in nuclear fire again if it meant she was safe from harm. Happy. Arcade couldn’t understand, could he? He hadn’t seen someone born, been told since her first breath that she was yours to protect. He didn’t raise Caroline, didn’t comfort her at night when she had a nightmare, didn’t hold the girl when she cried when their mother died.

It was really his only reason to live anymore.

“You’re right. I don’t have siblings. But if I did, I don’t think I’d like my older brother or sister constantly following me, making sure I don’t  get so much as a splinter. I’m not saying you shouldn’t protect her. I’d never say that. I’m just saying….let her show you she can handle herself.” Arcade stopped next to Mickey and put a hand on his shoulder. Mickey took a deep breath.

“I may be….overzealous. I know. But she’s apparently got some plan that she needs to help everyone in the Mojave. And while that’s admirable, it’s dangerous. She needs me.” Mickey said after a while and Arcade sighed.

“I just thought I’d say something. Let’s go.” Arcade motioned forward and the two continued on.

Inside the Lucky 38, Caroline had been gearing up, ready to come looking for them. As MIckey expected, she was impatient. But he waved the paperwork around and everyone gathered in the kitchen, around the table.

“So, Cass, you were right. Now what do we do?” Mickey asked, sliding the paperwork over to Cass. She glanced over it and then threw it back on the table angrily, glaring at it.

“We go to Ranger Jackson at the Mojave Outpost, show him what these fucks were up to. If I know the man, and unfortunately I do, he’ll jump at the chance to do something to let the caravans back through. He won’t let this slide.” Cass said. Mickey saw the bottle of whiskey on the table, but no one seemed to be saying anything about it, so he decided to keep quiet too. Drinking this early in the morning didn’t seem like a good idea, but she seemed like she could handle it. Mickey wasn’t worried about her.

“Looks like we’re going on another road trip. We don’t all need to go, but safety in numbers and all that.” Caroline said, looking around at the group gathered around the table. Mickey wasn’t opposed to everyone going, even if it would slow them down a little bit.

“I kind of want to stay and explore the Strip more. Go see what The Tops looks like. I didn’t go in there yesterday. And it doesn’t have any terrifying rumors!” Veronica said and Mickey watched her pull her hood back. She was rather pretty without it, and Mickey wondered why she dressed like she did.

“No, it just has the bastard who shot me in the head.” Caroline growled. Veronica wilted.

“Oh. I forgot about that. I’m sorry.” She murmured and Caroline’s expression softened. Mickey opened his mouth to speak when the ghoul beat him to it.

“How about we go in there and scope the place out for you, huh boss? Get you intel, see if we can find out where Benny spends his time.” Raul said, reaching over to pat the brunette woman on the shoulder.

“I still say you black widow his ass.” Cass said, shrugging. 

“No. Absolutely not.” Mickey put his hands on the table and stood up from his chair. He had to draw the line somewhere, and he definitely wasn’t letting her do that. Out of the corner of his eye, Mickey saw Boone’s customary scowl deepen. He didn’t like the idea either.

“As much as I hate it when you try and tell me no, I have to agree with you there. I’m not sleeping with Benny. I’ll deal with him. When we get back.” Caroline said, but she sounded unsure to his ears.

“So, Raul and I will stay behind, hold down the fort. The rest of you go see if you can stop the nefarious Van Graff family and the Crimson Caravan.” Veronica said, standing up from the table.

“Sounds good. Pack for a trip and we’ll get out of here in half an hour.” Caroline stood up and left the room. She was chewing on her lip, a sign she was upset about something. Mickey got up and followed, stepping into the master bedroom and closing the door behind them.

“What’s up?” Mickey asked and Caroline looked up with an irritated expression. She was kneeling in front of the trunk, sorting through her weapons again.

“Nothing. I’m fine. Are you ready to go?” She asked, pulling a box of .308 rounds out and setting it aside. Mickey raised an eyebrow and propped himself up on the desk.

“I know you, even though you don’t remember. Something is bothering you. Is it Benny? I can take care of Benny.” He offered, and was a little startled when she scrambled to her feet and turned around to glare at him. He probably shouldn’t have been. He knew she had a temper that flared up from time to time.

“I don’t…listen. I know you have to protect me. Or you think you do. It’s the brother thing or whatever. But I need to do things on my own. I need to confront Benny. I need to get the Platinum Chip back and deliver it to Mr. House.” She said, and he was surprised that her voice was as level as it was. She obviously was trying very hard not to shout at him

“I know. I’m sorry. I just…Caroline, please understand that you’re all I have left. Mom died. Daniel died back when Havasu was sacked. Dad died when… after the Battle of the Hoover Dam. Some of this...most of this is me trying to protect you because it’s what I’ve done for my entire life. And a little bit of this is my selfish need to not lose anyone else.” Mickey admitted, stepping forward, closer to her.

They were quiet for a moment, both watching each other and the Caroline sighed and turned away. Someone knocked on the door and she frowned at it.

“Just a minute! Listen. You can come along if you want. Protect me if you need to. But stop trying to keep me from doing my job.” She said quietly and Mickey could accept that.

“Wait. Job? What job? You don’t have to keep working for the Mojave Express. They probably filled your position after you were left for dead.” Mickey said as she settled her gear on her back. She shook her canteen and was pleased with the sound, so she hooked it into the pocket on the side of her pack.

“Oh. I’ve decided I’m going to help unify New Vegas into it’s own city-state. C’mon, lets not keep them waiting.” Caroline shrugged as if it was no big deal and walked past him.

What had she gotten herself into?

* * *

 

Despite the large group, they were making good time. Arcade was having some difficulties keeping up with the rest of them, as they were all used to long excursions and he wasn’t, but Mickey was proud of his effort. He’d sleep well tonight, wherever they rested. Even if it was out in the open.

“There’s an abandoned ranch not too much farther. We could probably camp there for the - “ Caroline was looking at her Pip-Boy map, but she stopped when the eyebot played a short clip of music.

Everyone looked up at it, confused. Their confusion didn’t last long though.

“The Caesar has marked you for death and the Legion obeys! Ready yourself for battle!” A male voice shouted behind them. They all spun around and were frozen in surprise for a fraction of a second. Mickey felt a stab of fear he ruthlessly shoved aside. They found him, but he’d deal with it later.

It was hard to tell who moved first. Mickey stepped in front of Caroline, drawing the rifle she had given him. Boone charged forward, forgoing his hunting rifle and pulling his machete out of its sheathe. Cass drew her weapon in record time and was able to get a shot off immediately. Arcade moved for cover, pulling his plasma defender out and firing it blindly as he moved. There were some rocks nearby, and Caroline darted over and took shelter with Arcade. She had her own pistol and was firing, but it was hard to make a shot when Boone was in the midst, swinging his machete very aggressively.

Mickey had to help him out, so he tossed the rifle aside and darted forward. He knew how they fought. Caroline, Cass and Arcade were keeping the two with guns focused on them, so Mickey and Boone could take out the ones with melee weapons.

Mickey dropped to his knees once he reached his intended target, swinging his arm out and slamming his hand into the Legionary’s knee. It buckled underneath him and he went down with a shout of pain. Already back on his feet, Mickey whirled around and kicked the Legionary in the head, sending him sprawling to the ground. Mickey drew his sidearm, the 9mm pistol, and put a bullet in his head.

He was startled by eyebot zipping past him, firing lasers. Looks like it was useful after all.

The fight didn’t last long. Boone managed to kill two Legionaries with his machete. Another Legionary had nasty plasma burns over most of his body, but he wasn’t quite dead yet. Mickey put him out of his misery with a bullet to the head. The other one with a gun died with a hole in his chest thanks to Cass.

“What the fuck was that about?” Cass asked after the coast was clear. Mickey stared down at the body of the Legionary with a scowl.

“Probably after us. We did kind of kick the cazador’s nest a few days back.” Caroline said, coming out from hiding. Boone made a sound of amusement but when Mickey looked, he wasn’t smiling. There was a good amount of blood on his shirt, most of it probably not his.

Mickey didn’t think they were after them. Killing a few raiding parties wouldn’t incur the wrath of Caesar. Well, it might. He was known to send assassins out for less. But Mickey was willing to bet they were looking for him too. They didn’t like it when slaves escaped.

“Oh. Well. That’s good. You’ve pissed off Caesar enough he’s sending assassins. Congradulations. I think. “Arcade said, coming over to inspect the bodies.

“Hear that, Boone? They hate us so much, they’re going to send us Legionaries to kill!” Caroline smiled at the sniper and knelt down to poke through the pockets.

“That’s not funny, Caroline. They’re not screwing around.” Mickey scolded. She threw a look over her shoulder and pocketed the denarii she found.

“I’m not being funny. Fuck them. I’ll kill whatever they send at me. I was at Nipton. I was at Nelson too. If they want to send assassins after me, I’ll kill them and then go sit on the wall and wait for the next group.” Caroline stood up and replaced the empty magazine in her pistol with a full one and slid it back into the holster.

Mickey took a deep breath and opened his mouth to respond. He chose not to when Arcade gave him a pointed look. He gave Arcade a similar look and then turned his focus back to Caroline.

“Anyways, we should get out of here. Thank you, Eddie. You’re a good help.” She patted the eyebot, which replied in a series of beeps and chirps, and resumed its place at her shoulder.

“I told you it’s a murder machine.” Arcade said irritably, replacing the energy cell in his weapon. MIckey shook his head and retrieved the rifle, checking it over to make sure he didn’t damage it when he tossed it aside. It appeared fine, so he slung it over his shoulder again.

“Murder machine that saved your life. Quit bitchin’ and lets go.” Mickey walked off, his mood decidedly darker than it had been before.

Legionaries coming after him? He could handle that. He’d been expecting it, even. But if they were coming after Caroline, he’d have to do something. He knew he agreed to let her do her own thing (sort of) but this wasn’t something he could just let her do.

Arcade appeared at Mickey’s shoulder. Mickey tried to stay focused on the road, but now he couldn’t focus on anything but keep an eye on their surroundings. Chances were that the Legionary group was the only one and that Caesar expected them to handle the job, so there wouldn’t be another set of assassins for a while. Mickey knew that.

He also knew that they were now being watched.

“Are you okay?” Arcade asked quietly. Mickey chewed on his lip and glanced over at the other man and shook his head slightly.

“They’re either after me or after her, and either way isn’t good. I….I need to watch the road. I’ll tell you more later.” Mickey said and Arcade nodded and pulled away. Mickey went back to watching their surroundings with as much focus as he could give to it.

Reaching the abandoned ranch, Mickey was hesitant to stop. He wanted to push on and try and reach the Outpost tonight. But they’d have to pass by what was left of Nipton and Caroline was adamant that she didn’t want to do that. Despite her attitude earlier, she seemed spooked, especially being this close to Nipton.

He wondered if it was the first time she’d seen Legionaries up close since Nipton.

They made camp and set up a watch rotation, Boone taking first watch, Cass and Arcade second, Caroline and the eyebot (which she insisted would help her) third, and Mickey would take the last one. When Arcade complained about being paired with someone, Mickey not so subtly reminded him that he had been up most of last night by tugging the collar of his shirt aside and showing off the lovely purple mark on his shoulder. Arcade blushed and looked away. Cass laughed.

“I knew you two were fucking.” She told them when she caught her breath. If Arcade could look any more uncomfortable, he would.

“Wasn’t at the time.” Mickey pulled out a pouch of brahmin jerky he kept in his pack for trips like this and took a piece out to chew on. He handed it over to Caroline who took it and passed it on to Boone instead of taking a piece.

“Not hungry?” He asked, concerned. She shook her head and moved over to where her bedroll and pack was tucked up against the wall.

“Gonna get some sleep.” She muttered, stopping in front of her pack and fishing out her canteen. Mickey watched her drink and put it back inside the bag and then settle herself in her blanket, her back to them now.

“Probably a good idea. Watch comes up quick.” Cass followed Caroline’s actions. Arcade was stifling a yawn as he slid underneath his blanket, his bedroll close to Mickey’s so the two of them could share warmth (Cass rolled her eyes at that one). Mickey eyed his sister one more time before climbing into bed himself.

Boone settled himself near the window, rifle in hand. Mickey heard the man crack open the window and a second later, he heard the snap of a lighter. Boone must be smoking. It’d probably help keep him awake.

Mickey drifted off to the sounds of Arcade’s breathing next to him. The doctor would start snoring soon, it would be better if he fell asleep before then.

* * *

 

Mickey woke when Caroline shook his shoulder gently. The light from her Pip-boy glowed softly in the dark, and the only sound in the small house was Arcade’s snoring and the eyebot’s humming as it hovered in a corner. She stood back when he sat himself up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“It’s been quiet. Couple of dogs ran by the door, but they didn’t stick around long.” She said quietly as he stood and gathered his weapons. She settled herself down by the fire, rubbing warmth into her hands.

“You should get some more sleep.” Mickey said to her. Caroline shrugged.

“Don’t want to. I’ll sit up with you.” She replied and Mickey frowned but didn’t push the issue.

They sat in silence for a while, Caroline adding bits of wood from smashed up furniture while he stared out the window. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her open her mouth and close it several times like she wanted to say something but couldn’t figure out how to word it.

“You can talk to me about anything, you know that, right?” Mickey said easily and he looked over to see her frown.

“I had a dream last night. It wasn’t clear...mostly just...feelings. Does the name ‘Jimmy’ mean anything to you?” She asked after a while.  

Mickey returned to looking out the window, thinking about it. He knew plenty of people who could be called Jimmy. None of them knew Caroline, at least not to his knowledge. No one alive, anyhow. There was a Jimmy back home, at Havasu. But he died, ten years ago now. She could remember him, but Mickey barely knew the guy himself. He was a ranger and was gone for months at a time. Mickey only went out with him once.

“Not particularly. What did he look like?” Mickey asked after he thought about it.

“Um...I don’t know. I think he was dark-skinned. Darker than us. He wasn’t particularly tall. I was sixteen, I think. Around there. Like I said. It was mostly just feelings.” She replied and stood up to move next to him as Boone shifted and murmured a name quietly in his sleep.

“Who’s Carla?” Mickey asked and Caroline sighed.

“His wife.” She replied, pulling a chair up to the window as quietly as she could.

“I bet she loved it when he came with you.” Mickey remarked, pulling his coat tighter around him.

“Wouldn’t know. She’s dead.” Caroline shrugged and drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Mickey was a little startled for a moment. He didn’t know that.

“Kind of touchy about it too, so don’t say anything.”

“My lips are sealed.” Mickey said and they lapsed into silence again.

“I saw Nipton, you know.” Caroline broke the silence after what seemed like an hour. Mickey sighed and looked over at his sister and didn’t like what he saw. She was scared.

“What did you see?” Mickey had seen it too, days after it happened. It wasn’t pleasant, and he’d seen plenty of it during his time with the Legion. He didn’t like thinking about it.

“I…the Legionaries were still there. They had just finished things when I got there. They were led by this man wearing some type of dog helmet and goggles. He didn’t have the banner the other ones carry around though. His voice was…..terrifying.”

Mickey’s heart hammered in his chest. He knew who was at Nipton. Son of a bitch Mickey felt sick.

“Vulpes Inculta. I know of him. What happened?” Mickey forced himself to ask. He had to know. Caroline was a pretty girl. He knew what the Legion did to pretty girls, what Vulpes Inculta did to pretty girls. Mickey was surprised she walked out of there.

“Nothing. He told me what he did at Nipton. How he tricked the town into giving itself up, the fucked up lottery. And you know, I could handle all that. I know I’ve seen all kinds of messed up things. I can’t remember them, not consciously. But my brain saw what happened at Nipton and thought ‘Oh, I’ve seen worse.’” Caroline caught herself as her voice rose, and she glanced over at their sleeping companions to check and see if they were still sleeping.

“It was his voice that terrified me. It sounds so stupid, but his goddamn voice scared me so bad I ran all the way to the Mojave Outpost. I bet that fucker watched me too.” Caroline sighed and looked back out the window.

“He’s a scary bastard. I’d have run too.” But for entirely different reasons. Mickey knew he had to open up sometime, remind her about his time with the Legion. It’d be better if he came out with it instead of waiting for her to remember.

“I hope I never see him again.” Caroline said, her voice small.

“Me too.” Mickey replied quietly. There was more silence this time and Mickey watched her fall asleep in the chair, knees tucked to her chest.

He had a lot to think about, didn’t he? Vulpes meeting Caroline, whoever this Jimmy was (could he be a boyfriend she had when he wasn’t around? Would Dad have allowed that?), and the Legion being aware of their location. That was the part he liked the least. When the first team didn’t report back, a second team would be sent. And another, until one succeeded. Caroline was a skilled gunfighter, sure. She even had some usefull hand-to-hand combat skills, if she could remember them.

But they’d just send more teams, more skilled assassins, until one succeeded. But what could he do except not let her out of his sight?

He’d address the situation when they arrived safely back to the Lucky 38. It was a big enough deal that they all needed to talk about it. Until then, he’d keep an eye out and protect her as best he could. At least she was trying to make New Vegas a better place.

A pouch of his favored coyote tobacco was produced from a pocket and Mickey took a few leaves and stuck them in his mouth, chewing on the leaves and keeping his eyes out the window for any sign of movement. The night continued on, and he eagerly awaited the first touches of dawn in the sky, a sign that it was time to move on.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering, Dead Money is coming soon. I'm going on vacation for the next few days, where I'm going to sit on a beach and fry myself again, and then I'll come back and hopefully have the courage to go to the Sierra Madre. I know most people didn't enjoy Dead Money, but I thought it was a refreshing change of pace. 
> 
> It also scared the pants off me, and honestly, I love it when games do that.


	16. Easier To Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between the Van Graffs and Benny, Six has had enough of the Strip for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've got this, and one more small (I say small now, but the word count keeps running away from me) chapter from Mickey's point of view and then we have Dead Money!

Lasers and plasma rained down on them as they all took shelter inside a building, the old sign outside displaying it as ‘Buck’s Steak House’. Six was furious.

“This! This is what you wanted to protect me from! Good fucking job!” She screamed at Mickey while reloading her rifle. The laser burn on her shoulder hurt like hell, but she waved Arcade off so he could take care of Cass, who was sporting a plasma burn to her hip that looked worse than Six’s injury.

“How the fuck was I supposed to know they’d realize what we did so quickly?” Mickey yelled back, leaning through the open window to fire a few rounds out at the Silver Rush thugs who were currently painting the front of the building with their energy weapons. Boone had his rifle out and was better than the rest of them at popping out of cover, taking a shot and ducking back down before they return fire. So far, he was the only one who managed to take anyone down since they had taken shelter. Six, Mickey, Cass and Arcade had managed to keep them pinned down.

Arcade ran out of ammo quickly, and shortly after that Six had taken a laser blast to the shoulder. Cass received her plasma burn standing to help Six out of the line of fire and Six cursed violently. Arcade had seemed indecisive until Six all but shoved him at the other woman.

“Yeah, the shouting? Not helping so much.” Arcade said. Six ignored him.

“They had to realize sometime!” Six crouched, stuck her rifle out the window and fired, missing both shots she was able to take. It gave Boone enough time to stand and fire, taking out another one of the Silver Rush assholes with a clean shot through the throat. Four left. Six didn’t even want to think about what would happen if they decided to lob a plasma grenade through the open window.

“This is hardly my fault!” Mickey shouted, giving Boone more covering fire. Boone fired again. Three left. When this was all over, Six would kiss that man.

Well, probably not. She didn’t think it’d go over too well.

“I’m not the one who detonated a grenade inside their shop!”

“I’m not the one who wanted to deal with them in the first place.”

More covering fire. Another shot from Boone’s hunting rifle. Two left.

“I’m almost out of ammo.” Mickey said, not shouting this time. Six was appreciative of this, as it probably wasn’t a good idea to announce that fact to their enemies.

“Are you sure the same person taught us how to shoot?” Six asked, taking another shot. This time she managed to catch one in the shoulder. His armor took the brunt of the impact, but it still staggered him, allowing Boone to get another kill shot. One left.

“I don’t see you hitting too much.” Mickey growled, shoving the last magazine of 5.56 rounds into the rifle. “Besides, I’m not good with this long range crap. I was always an up close fighter.”

“Then why aren’t you out there beating them to death?” Six demanded, putting her hunting rifle aside and drawing her pistol. She was close to being out of ammo too, and .308 rounds were expensive. She also knew why he wasn’t out there swinging his fists. He’d have been dead damn near instantly. She was just angry. And exhausted from the road and hungry and there was sand in places it shouldn’t be and she wasn’t even sure how it got there.

“Yeah. Don’t...don’t do that.” Arcade tried again, pouring water over Cass’s hip. The woman didn’t seem to be in too much pain, thanks to Med-X and a stashed bottle of whiskey. Six wasn’t sure if mixing the two was a good idea but she wasn’t about to tell Cass how to live her life.

Six stood up and aimed her pistol at the last man outside. She pulled the trigger until the slide of the pistol slid back and locked into place. Twelve rounds. Most of them hit their target and the man was now on the ground. His chest armor took most of the damage, but her grouping was tight and she managed to punch through with her last few rounds.

“Looks like I’m hitting more than you.” Six said smugly, replacing the magazine in her pistol with the last full one she had and giving the surroundings a look. It looked clear, so she stepped out through the broken window, her pistol at the ready in case someone else came shooting.

“You’re infuriating.” Mickey retorted. Six shrugged and tossed him an easy smile. She was still angry but with the threat of imminent death gone, she could relax slightly.

The streets were empty, not that it surprised her. A gunfight like that would chase even the Kings away. They wouldn’t have wanted to get in the middle of any feud the Van Graffs had with anyone, despite the fact that they considered themselves the peacekeepers of Freeside. The emptiness of the streets allowed her to kneel down by the bodies. Some considered looting dead bodies morally wrong, but Six didn’t. It was her way to stay alive. Any caps or chems they had would give her an advantage.

She was done with the almost dying thing. She wasn’t sure if she’d survive another bullet to the head. Or a laser blast or plasma. Or even a lead pipe.

She wasn’t sure what to do with their energy weapons. Maybe she could take them down to the Gun Runner’s shop, see how much they were worth. Caps were caps, after all. Ammo was expensive, especially the way she and Boone went through .308 rounds. She wanted a different rifle, not that she minded the hunting rifle. She was getting to be a good shot with it, thanks to Boone.

She gathered a couple of laser rifles and a plasma rifle in her arms and stuffed them in her mostly empty backpack. Still, it was a tight fit, and she’d have to get rid of them sooner or later. After she was finished securing them, she gathered as many energy cells as she could fit into whatever space was left in her pack, intending to give them to Arcade later.

Turning back to her friends, she found Mickey and Arcade helping Cass out of the building they had sheltered in.

“No, I don’t want to go to the Follower’s camp. Just give me a few stimpacks and the rest of that whiskey and I’ll be just fine.” She growled. Six smirked.

“You really shouldn’t drink and use stimpacks at the same time. The side effects will be-” Arcade started but Cass interrupted him with a look that would have stopped most men in their tracks.

“I’m thirty-seven years old. I think I know what I can handle by now.” She said, snatching the bottle of whiskey out of Mickey’s hands and taking another swig. Six watched Arcade sigh and throw his arms up in surrender.

“Let’s just go on record that I don’t approve of this, then.”

“We should get her back to the 38, at least. We should all get back.” Mickey said, looking around, the rifle in his hands. Six agreed with him. They were all tired, having just arrived back in Freeside. Word traveled quickly in the Mojave, so the Van Graff thugs were waiting for them when they got back. They had to prepare themselves in case the Van Graffs sent more goons looking for revenge.

“Can you walk?” Six asked Cass, and the other woman took another gulp of whiskey and nodded.

 "I’m alright.” Cass assured them, taking her own pack from Boone and slinging it over her shoulder. Her rifle went in the hand not occupied by whiskey and she waved them forward. Six looked at her in concern for a moment before turning her attention to Boone. He seemed unharmed. Weary, perhaps, but then again she had noticed he wasn’t sleeping well. Getting him an actual bed to sleep in would be good.

She led the way, keeping an eye out for any more trouble. Thankfully, there was none and they made it to the Lucky 38 with no issue. Unless you count Arcade’s ever deepening face of disapproval and the empty bottle of whiskey Cass was now carrying around as an issue. Six didn’t. It wasn’t her problem. She just wanted to bathe and get into bed.

Veronica was still awake, sitting in the kitchen with a book in front of her. She jumped out of her chair in alarm when she noticed the sorry state they were in, concern filling her features.

“Oh my God, what happened?” She hurried over to Six and pulled her pack away, her eyes filling with a look when she spotted the energy weapons in Six’s bag. Six knew it to be fear.

“Van Graff thugs attacked us on our way back into the city.” Six said, although she was really just assuring Veronica that they weren’t of Brotherhood origin. Veronica relaxed slightly, relief flickering over her face.

“Should have just killed them in the first place. Can I go lay down and drink now?” Cass growled, leaning heavily on Arcade’s shoulder. Six looked over at her and frowned. How was the woman not dead on her feet? The combination of Med-X and whiskey should have knocked her out.

“Take my bunk.” Boone offered, tilting his head towards the bedroom. Cass nodded with a grateful expression and stumbled into the room with Arcade’s guidance.

“You’re hurt too.” Mickey reminded her, like she needed to be. Her shoulder hadn’t stopped hurting, but she’d just clean it out and bandage it. It wasn’t bad enough to warrant use of Med-X, although she had given thought to exaggerating her injury to have an excuse to use the drug. It always seemed to make her remember something.

She never did get very rested after using it though, so she’d pass for now. At least tonight.

“I’ll let Arcade take a peek at it when he’s done with Cass. It’s not bad.” Six glanced over at the burn again. It singed right through her leather armor, and with the amount of damage the garment had taken, it was probably time to retire it and find something else. It was too bad combat armor was too bulky and not good to travel in. She’d get great protection in that.

“We’re just glad you’re back, boss. Got a little bit of news from the Tops, so whenever you’re ready to hear it, give me a shout. Or maybe ask Veronica. It’s past this old man's bed time.” Raul had appeared from the sitting room when they arrived and had waited patiently in the doorway for Six to turn her attention to him. She smiled over at the ghoul and nodded.

“Maybe in the morning. I’m exhausted too.” Six told him. Raul nodded and shuffled by the group in the foyer and into the bedroom.

“Let me help you out of your armor so you can get cleaned up for bed.” Veronica offered, gesturing towards the master bedroom they shared. Six lead the way, closing the door behind them for some privacy.

“Are you sure this is okay? It looks pretty bad.” Veronica asked as she carefully peeled away the burnt leather. Six bit back a groan as the material brushed over the wound.

“Cass is worse off. I’ll be fine after some sleep and a stimpack.” Six said, although admittedly it’d still hurt tomorrow. It was actually a deep burn. The guy had gotten a lucky shot and punched through a thin part in her armor.

“Okay, well, make sure you let the doctor take a look at it anyways. Burns get infected too. You’re going to need to make sure you’re in top shape if you’re gonna go deal with Benny.” Veronica set the armor aside and handed Six a tank top to throw on.

“Right….” Six really didn’t want to think about Benny right now. Or ever, but she had to get to him sometime. She had to finish the job, get House the Platinum Chip. It was the least she could do. After all, he was putting her and her friends up in the 38. It was safer and cheaper than getting a room at one of the other casinos.

There was a knock on the door as she tugged off her pants and Veronica crossed over to the door and cracked it open to peek. Six found a pair of soft cotton pants and pulled those on. She was tired, so she’d just scrub herself off briefly with a washcloth and take care of the full bath in the morning.

Veronica opened the door wider when Six was fully clothed and Arcade stepped in, eyes immediately searching for her injury. He crossed the room in a few long strides and his hands were at her shoulder, carefully examining the burn.

“Are there any clean cloths in the bathroom?” Arcade asked and Six opened her mouth to answer when Veronica beat her to it.

“Yeah. Raul and I washed all the linens and stuff yesterday.” Six looked over at the doorway and found Boone and Mickey crowding it. She struggled not to roll her eyes.

“I’ll need a couple. And run the water. As cold as you can get it. Are there any bandages around here?” Arcade continued and Six lifted her free hand to point at the cabinet to the left of the bed. She kept medical supplies in there, along with all the other chems she had picked up along the way. They’d be useful eventually.

“Go take a seat in the bathroom. You’re not half-drunk, so cleaning this out will be easier, unless you’re an awful patient like your brother is.” Arcade stepped away and Six tossed a smirk in Mickey’s direction. He rolled his eyes and stepped out of the way.

Because of that remark, she decided to be the best patient she could possibly be. She kept her complaining to a minimum and did whatever Arcade asked. She did downplay the pain though.

The blonde man worked quickly and efficiently. But he was also surprisingly gentle with her, more so than she had seen with other doctors. His words were careful and his touch was soft, and he apologized when she did give any sign of being in pain due to his treatment.

“There we are. Are you sure you don’t want some Med-X?” Arcade finished wrapping the wound lightly and taping it to her skin. He produced a syringe that Six identified as a stimpack and he injected it into her upper arm carefully.

“Yeah. It’ll be fine. I’m just going to go sleep. Should be better in the morning.” She assured him, eyeing the syringe of Med-X sticking out of his pocket anyways. She was tempted to say yes, but really, she just wanted to sleep. She had plenty of time to remember things later.

“Alright. Well, I’ll leave you to bathe before bed, but I won’t be far. Give a shout if you need anything.” Arcade stood, gathering the dirty cloths he had used to carefully clean the burn (that had been the worst part) and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Tiredly, she washed off the dust of the road and the sweat from a few days of travel. She’d like to wash her hair but was too tired to even run enough water for that. The firefight had taken more out of her than she thought. She tossed the washcloth she was using on the side of the tub and dressed, wavering slightly.

She expected to fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

* * *

 “Caroline? You still awake?”

Unfortunately, she was. The room was dark and cold and she had the blankets pulled up to her chin. Veronica came into the room and closed the door quietly behind her, crossing the room in the dark. Six heard her stripping the robe off and felt her climb into the bed.

“Yeah. What’s up?” Six tried to find a more comfortable position in bed. It was better than sleeping on the ground like she had been the past few days, but now it felt too soft for some reason. Her body wouldn’t relax, wouldn’t let her rest, and she was getting fed up and considering taking a dose of Med-X just so she’d fall asleep, even though she’d just toss and turn all night.

“I can’t help but notice that the Brotherhood doesn’t really exist out here. We’re like an urban myth. No presence on the outside. We just don't adapt like we should. Used to be that all you needed to get your way was a suit of power armor and a laser rifle. Now... people are armed and organized. They're not afraid. But we still stick to our old approach, because it's all we know.”

Six wasn’t expecting this. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if she had the brain power to deal with this problem tonight, but it was obviously bugging her friend. She had to talk to her.

So talk they did. For hours, they discussed Veronica and the Brotherhood of Steel. They talked about how she ended up in the Mojave, about Father Elijah and families and lost loves. Six didn’t actually do much talking and she suspected that Veronica had precious few people to talk to back home. She was glad that the scribe felt comfortable enough to tell her these things. Veronica talked about the Codex and Six asked questions about it. Veronica talked about her true purpose (procurement specialist, weren’t you listening before? said with a light tone to imply that Veronica was joking) and Six asked why she was always being sent out on errands.

“Oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. You’re exhausted after traveling all day, and here I am talking your ear off. I’ll shut up now.” Veronica said after Six failed to stifle a noisy yawn. She didn’t even want to look at her Pip-Boy for the time.

“It’s alright. I wouldn’t have kept asking questions otherwise. Thanks for telling me, though. If there’s ever anything I can do to help you, let me know.” Six said, rolling over and getting comfortable, shoving a hand under the pillow. Her shoulder twinged but Six ignored it, finally settling in.

“Of course.” Veronica sounded sleepy herself. Maybe they’d continue the conversation in the morning. With a smile, Six reached out and tapped Veronica’s leg with her foot.

“By the way, I’d like a dress too.”

* * *

 “So we noticed that he rarely goes anywhere inside the casino without a ton of bodyguards, but I managed to sneak up to the floor he’s on and it seems like he’s alone in his rooms. There are guards just outside though.” Veronica said at the table. Everyone was sitting around it, the remains of their late breakfast in front of them. It was getting close to noon.

“I hate to say it, but your best bet is to seduce your way up. You can’t just pull a gun on him and shoot him, even if you managed to sneak one in. And he doesn’t leave the Tops, not from what I’m hearing.”

Six didn’t like this plan at all. Going up to the man who shot her in the head and left her for dead and batting her eyelashes and hoping he’d take her up to his room? It didn’t sit well in her stomach. She didn’t even think it’d work. She didn’t know what she’d say to get him to take her upstairs anyways.

“There’s gotta be another way.” Mickey insisted and Raul sighed from across the table.

“Do you have any proof of what he tried to do? Maybe you can show it to his right hand man Swank and prove that his boss isn’t who he says he is.” The ghoul suggested.

“It just so happened that I do.” Six said, grinning. She had picked up some rather distinct cigarette butts from beside her shallow grave. She also had an engraved lighter that the Khans had given her in Boulder City. It wasn’t much, but she was sure she could convince Swank that Benny was a murderer.

Well, attempted murderer. Same thing, in her opinion.

“Try that then. If he believes it, he might take care of Benny himself.” Mickey said and for a moment she thought about it. She wouldn’t have to face the man who tried to kill her. She wouldn’t have to see his face.

And then she realized that she wanted to see his face. She wanted to remember who he was. And she wanted him to realize who was killing him.

“No. I’ll finish this myself.” She said decisively. She was scared, sure, but the only way to end the fear of the man who tried to kill her was to get rid of him.

“We’ll need to get you some type of holdout weapon. Something small you can sneak in there. And something to wear. Your armor will look out of place.” Cass said, shifting in her chair. Her burn still pained her. Six was still bothered by hers, but she mostly ignored it.

“I have some of your old clothes still at my apartment. Nothing fancy, but you’ll still be better dressed.” Mickey said, drumming his fingers on the table.

“I’ve got a switchblade somewhere I could probably sneak in. And maybe that small .22 I picked up a while back. That should be fine too.” Six said and stood up from the table. Everyone else rose too and Six looked at them all, determined not to show how she was truly feeling.

“Right then. Go get me those clothes, I’ll see if the gun is in working order. Let’s take care of this tonight and see what’s so important about this Platinum Chip.”

* * *

 

She stepped into the Tops alone, although Veronica, Boone and Mickey were in there somewhere in case she needed backup. At the door, she was stopped by one of the ‘Chairmen’, the group who ran the casino, and asked to give over her weapons. She managed to keep her secret weapons though, and was thankful for that.

Moving into the casino proper, she looked around. There was plenty of tables for her to gamble at, if she felt like it, but she wasn’t about to try her luck today. She needed what little she had for her operation.

She looked to her right, took in the room and glanced back to the other wing and paused. Was that….she looked back to the right again, and towards the end of the room, she spotted a black and white checkered coat. Rage and disgust rolled in her stomach and for a moment she fought the urge to throw up. Instead she moved up the stairs, taking care to appear unhurried, and took a seat at one of the open tables where she could watch Benny.

He appeared unworried, smoking a cigarette and chatting with the guards that stood around him. Veronica was right, she’d never make it out of here if she took a shot at him. No, she had to get him alone. She didn’t trust her ability to seduce him. It probably wouldn’t work anyways. He did try to kill her after all. Who would sleep with a woman he put six feet under? No, talking to Swank was her best option.

Going back downstairs again, she stepped up to the desk.

“Hey baby. Welcome to the Tops. What can I do for you?” A man wearing the same suit as everyone else leaned up from behind the desk and gave her a smirk. She smiled back at him and hoped she didn’t look too strained.

“I’m looking for a man named Swank. You wouldn’t know where I could find him, do you?’ She asked, leaning forward as well, giving him an ample view down her shirt. Cass told her that flashing the girls never hurt, and since the woman had been around longer than Six had, Six was inclined to believe her.

“That’d be me, babydoll. I’m Swank and I run this joint.” He said to her and Six watched his eyes dance down away from her face before looking back up.

“I thought Benny ran this place.” She said, tracing a pattern idly on the desktop with her fingertips. This charm thing wasn’t so hard.

“Benny oversees the business, sure, but I run the Tops day-to day. I’m his right hand guy, ya dig?” Swank replied and Six watched him watch her. It was kind of fascinating, really, how easy it was to convince him she was just a pretty girl who wasn’t anything but curious.

“Nice place you got here. Wanna tell me about it?” She smiled over at him and he smiled in return.

Swank answered all of her questions, each one asked with a genuine sound of curiosity. She wanted to learn more about the place, and who better to ask than the locals? Turns out he thought the Omertas were shifty and the White Glove Society over at the Ultra-Luxe to be creepy. They were all places she wanted to check out next.

“Listen, Swank. You seem like a stand up guy, so I wanna tell you the real reason why I’m here. There’s something you should know about Benny.” She said, her face growing serious as she did so. His smile faltered and his eyes shifted into something a little less friendly and a little more dangerous.

“Really? You got something to say about the big boss, huh? Well, why don’t you say it to his face instead of yapping at me?” Swank responded and Six thought carefully about her next words.

“I don’t think you’re gonna like it. Seems like Benny’s been making his own play.” Six said and confusion bled into Swank’s features.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” She had his attention now.

“Benny tried to kill me and stole a platinum chip I was hired to deliver.” She told him and reached down to pat her pocket. She felt the lighter in there, and the cigarette butts she had collected from her grave site. She hoped it would be enough if he asked.

“That doesn’t…..why would he pull a stunt like that? Got anything else to offer?” Six thought a bit more about what else she could say. This part was harder. Maybe seducing Benny was the better idea.

“He tried to make it look like an accident. Just a traveler killed and robbed in the Wasteland.” Six began chewing on her lip anxiously. He wasn’t going to believe her. This was going to turn into a bloody gunfight. She could feel eyes on her and knew it was Mickey getting ready to make a move, but she didn’t dare look around for him.

“He’s trying to pull a fast one on the big man, huh? Crazy bastard. Got anymore?”

Six pulled the evidence out of her pocket and laid it out on the desk. Swank picked up the cigarette butts and looked them over and mumbled about them being Benny’s brand. She watched him examine the lighter too, hope growing in her chest.

"Yeah, that’s Benny’s lighter alright. Still not exactly a ton of proof. Got anything else, kid?”

“Um. No. That’s kind of it. What do you think.” Six said, hoping that he believed her. If not, she just shot herself in the foot because if Benny died any other way, she’d be suspect number one.

“Jesus kid, I think we’ve got a real problem on our hands. Can’t believe Benny’s a no good stinkin’ punk. Trying to play House like that…..Tell you what. I’ll call Benny, keep him away from his suite. You go search the place, it’s up on the 13th floor.” Six couldn’t believe it as he passed over the key. She scooped it up eagerly.

“It’s the room with the double doors, you can’t miss it. Maybe you’ll find something to show to Mr. House and get him arrested.” Swank continued and Six nodded, even though arresting Benny wasn’t in her plans today.

“Okay. I’ll do that.” Six tucked the key into her pocket and now she felt like she could look around for Mickey. She found him leaning casually against the upstairs railing, a cigarette between his lips. She didn’t realize he smoked.

“Groovy. I’ll get you your stuff back - in case you run into some company, ya dig? I’ll tell the boys to give you a pass to pack some heat. Go on - elevator’s past the slot machine to your left.” Swank motioned towards one of the Chairmen at the desk and leaned over to murmur something quietly in the other man’s ear. He nodded and walked away swiftly, returning with Six’s .357 revolver and machete she had strapped to her hip earlier. She hadn’t wanted to run the risk of carrying anything else, but Mickey had given Boone a silenced .22 pistol to sneak in and Veronica had a set of brass knuckles to use in case of a fight.

Six wandered over to the elevators, giving Mickey a brief smile and a thumbs up before she disappeared into them.

Finding his suite was easy. There were only one set of double doors on the floor, and she opened them up with the key and stepped inside, closing the door quickly behind her. She took the time to look around the room, and at first glance, it was pretty normal. There was a single door in the room, which she assumed lead to the bathroom and bedroom, and Six crossed over to it and opened it carefully.

The bedroom was equally normal, this room holding two doors. Six opened one and it lead to the bathroom. Nothing incriminating was in any of the cabinets or dressers, and she even dropped to her knees and looked under the bed. Nothing.

Setting her palm on the doorknob for the second door, she took a deep breath before opening it. Whatever she was looking for had to be in here.

She pushed it open and froze at the sight of a securitron past what used to be a wall. The thing had a strange happy face on its screen instead of the faces of the usual securitons, and she approached it cautiously, hand on her gun.

“Hey! Hi there! Good to meet you! What can I do for you today?” It spoke in a cheery voice and Six flinched at the sudden sound.

“What...what are you doing here?” Six asked the very out of place robot. The screen flickered briefly before answering her.

“Good question! My function is to monitor Mr. House’s data network and decode his encrypted transmissions. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m a PDQ - 88b Securitron, but you can call me Yes Man.” It replied in the same happy tone. Six relaxed slightly.

“What the hell kind of name is Yes Man? Why do securitrons even get names? You’re a robot.” Six said next, taking a glance around the room. It was clear this wasn’t meant to be seen by any guest at the Tops. She wondered what this room was for.

“It’s what Benny has always called me. Probably because I’m programmed to be so helpful.”

Right, the issue here wasn’t the out of place securitron, the issue was Benny.

“Have you seen Benny?” She asked it next, tossing a look behind her just to make sure he wasn’t actually standing there. You never know.

“He was around not too long ago. he’s probably down on the casino floor now. You can wait for him here if you’d like. I’m incapable of asking you to leave.” Well, that was interesting. She wondered what else he was incapable of.

“Listen. Benny stole a Platinum Chip from me. Do you have any idea what it’s for?” Six tapped her fingers on the grip of her pistol.

“Sure! Benny had me look at it lots of times! It’s a data storage device. Kind of like a holotape, but more advanced. As for what’s on it, well…Some of Mr. House’s data transmissions made it sound like it could upgrade his defenses somehow.” Yes Man answered her. She narrowed her eyes at it, wondering if it was programmed to answer her questions no matter what, or if this was a diversion of some kind. She better get some answers and get out of here quick. It was just too difficult to tell when a robot was lying.

“That’s just a guess though. The chip’s a proprietary format. You’d need special hardware to read the data on it.”

“Like my Pip-Boy?” Six lifted her left arm to show the piece of technology that had been invaluable to her so far. She wondered how she got along without it before.

“No! There are only two locations with non-standard hardware on the network - The Lucky 38 and an underground facility at Fortification Hill. I’d look there!”

She’d start with the Lucky 38, obviously. Fortification Hill was the seat of the Legion in the Mojave, and there was no way she was getting in there. Well, getting in there wouldn’t be so hard. Getting out alive would be more difficult.

“What’s Benny planning to do with the Chip?” Six asked, tossing another glance back towards the open door. This damn thing was so loud. She should have shut both doors behind her to muffle the noise so she didn’t draw any attention, but it was likely too late now.

“Oh! He wants to kill Mr. House and use the Platinum Chip to copy my neurocomputational matrix onto the Lucky 38’s mainframe. That should give me control over all of Mr. House’s defenses, most prominently his securitrons. And then I just do what Benny tells me. Easy-peasy.” Yes Man said in that happy tone that was starting to grate on her nerves. Why was it so fucking happy to spill all of Benny’s secrets? She didn’t understand it and she definitely didn’t like it.

“Why are you so fucking eager to tell me all this?” Six demanded, resisting the urge to start waving her gun around. She didn’t think robots could be intimidated.

“I was programmed to be helpful and answer any questions I was asked. I guess no one bothered to restrict who I answered questions for. That was probably pretty dumb, huh?”

More like really fucking stupid, but Six didn’t say that. Instead, she took a moment to think about what was just said to her. If Yes Man was telling the truth (and there wasn’t any way to know for certain, and she wasn’t about to just take the word of the robot) then Benny was trying to kick Mr. House out of power and take it for himself. She wasn’t about to let him do that. Maybe Benny would have been good in power, the right person for New Vegas, but Six couldn’t just let the attempted murder slide. Something in her gut told her that she had to finish him.

 _If someone ever tries to kill you, you try and kill them right back._ Those words drifted through her mind in a firm but gentle voice she didn't’ recognize. Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the robot.

“What if I...or someone else… want to take over New Vegas?” Six was essentially trying to make New Vegas independent of the NCR and the Legion, and she figured she might as well make it independent of House too. No one around had a very good opinion of him, and it seemed like he was content to sit there with the three casinos and let the rest of the Wasteland rot. That wasn’t right.

“Well, then, I’d have to help you. I mean, it seems pretty obvious Benny wouldn’t want me to, but hey, it’s not my fault I can’t say no.”

“Well, then, Yes Man, how about you tell me about this plan of Benny’s?”

* * *

 Six slipped out of Benny’s suite, her mind buzzing with plans. She had so much to discuss with her friends, with Mickey. But first, she had to get the Chip from Benny.

She took the elevator back downstairs and walked back to the front desk, giving Veronica a cheerful wink. It was their code so she knew everything was just fine. She approached Swank and he took his attention away from some paperwork to look up at her.

“You’re back. Find anything?”

“Benny has reprogrammed a Securitron. He’s trying to take over the Strip.” Six left out the fact that she was planning on doing the same thing. Well, kind of. She didn’t intend to be sole ruler of New Vegas. Things worked out better when everyone worked together.

“He’s what? Ah jeez. Jeez, this is really bad. What are you gonna do?” Swank leaned heavily on the desk. Six leaned on it was well, thinking. She didn’t want to tell Swank that she was going to shoot Benny between the eyes. That probably wouldn’t go over well.  But talking to Benny probably wouldn’t go over well either. She saw only one option here.

“I’m gonna take him out. I don’t see any other choice.”

“Take him out? Jesus…..well, if you think that’s the best way to deal with this. I’ll uh….I’ll send him up to his room, you can ambush him there.” Swank said and sighed heavily. She frowned and opened her mouth to speak, but Swank appeared to resign himself to this.

“Don’t worry about the rest of the Chairmen, I’ll make sure they keep clear. You’ll probably still have to deal with Benny’s guards though.”

“Alright. Thanks. And I’m sorry.” Six said, reaching out to pat Swank’s hand.

“Don’t be, doll. Sounds like he was trying to screw us over. God knows the Mojave is in enough trouble as it is. Someone’s gotta help it.” Swank replied, smiling ruefully at her.

“I’ll do my best.” Six smiled slightly and hurried towards the elevators. Benny would probably already be up there by the time she reached it, which was a good thing. It’d give her time to compose herself. Let her take this at her own pace. She didn’t look for her friends this time, but she knew they’d notice Benny’s absence on the casino floor.

It was now or never.  

She stepped out of the elevators with purpose and strode confidently towards Benny’s suite. There were two guards down at the end of the hall, but she ignored them and they ignored her. She pulled open the doors and stepped inside, closing them quickly behind her without turning her back to the man seated at the bar in front of her.

“What in the goddamn…..?You? How could you be? Oh Swank, you finky bastard. You got a crazy drop on me, baby, but you don’t want to kill me. You and me, we should be working together.” Benny scrambled up from his seat and retreated deeper into the room. Six drew her revolver, relishing the heavy weight of it in her hand.

“Not a chance, asshole. Hand over the Platinum Chip, and maybe I decide to let you live.” Six spat. She was lying, of course, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Can’t do that, baby. The Chip….it’s special. But savor this, baby...I can comp you the Presidential - best suite in the house. After what you’ve been through, you deserve a taste of the VIP lifestyle. Give me a minute or two to catch my breath, knock back a few cocktails, and we can do a meet and greet. Every question answered, guaranteed. This can be the start of a beautiful friendship.” Benny raised his hands. Six’s hands began to tremble.

“Friendship? After you shot me in the fucking head? Why would I ever trust you?” Six replied, only barely keeping herself from shouting.

“I know, I made a bad first impression. And you’ve got every reason to think I’m a creep. But baby, this is an 18 karat opportunity here.” Benny told her in a placating tone, but Six was having none of it. She took a few more steps forward, pressing him against the wall.

“Listen! I’ve got the Chip, but to see this shin-dig through to the end? I’m gonna need help. And hello! Who shows up but you?” Benny gave her what she assumed was supposed to be a charming smile. “This can’t be a coincidence, baby. You and me? We were meant to work together. “

“I’m not your baby. Hand over the Chip, Benny. Or else.”

Benny sighed and looked at her with a resigned look on his face. “Wish it didn’t have to end like this, babydoll.”

Benny reached out faster than Six had anticipated and shoved her. She stumbled backwards and tumbled onto the sofa. She lost her grip on her gun and it fell over the back, out of her reach. She watched Benny reach into his coat and draw a gun, the same gun from her dreams. The same gun he had shot her with. A flash of panic crawled up her throat - this was it. She’d die here. It was so quickly smothered by the determination that she was going to live that she almost doubted she felt the panic at all.

Rolling off the couch, she shoved herself forward and kicked out at Benny’s knees. They buckled underneath him and he fell to the floor with a cry. Six scrambled for the switchblade she had hidden in her belt and thumbed open the blade. She didn’t have enough room in here to swing her machete, but this little blade didn’t take much.

Diving at Benny, she landed on top of him and swung the blade down towards his throat. He managed to get his hands wrapped around her wrist and fought to keep her from completing her swing. He was bigger than her, and stronger, but rage fueled her. Six watched the panic in his eyes as the blade crept closer to his throat and she fought his desperate attempts to buck her off.

His knee reached up and slammed into Six’s spine, and she fell forward with a cry. Benny released her hands and threw her off him and struggled to his feet, clearly moving towards the door for help. She couldn’t let that happen and launched herself towards him, catching Benny by the ankles and dragging him down again. He rolled and kicked at her, but she climbed back on top of him using her knees to pin his hands down.

The blade came down into his chest. Benny cried out as Six ripped it free and stabbed him again. And again.

“You bastard! Motherfucking bastard!” Six shouted with each stab. Benny’s body grew limp underneath her and his head lolled to the side. It was then she stopped and stared at the body underneath her.

And at the blood on her hands. The blood turning cold in her veins, she scrambled away from the body, dropping the knife in her hands. She felt sick. Why did she feel sick? She’d killed people before. Up close like this too.

Why was this different? She didn’t understand the feeling of horror at her actions. Her stomach roiled and she pushed herself up and managed to make it into the bathroom before she threw up.

Stop. Don’t think about what you’ve done. Get up. Wash your hands. Clean the blood off as best you can. Caroline scrubbed her hands at the sink, tugging the coat off and throwing it aside. She’d never get it clean. The shirt underneath wouldn’t keep her warm very long, but she was going to go back to the Lucky 38 anyways.

 You’re clean. Clean the knife. Get the chip. Grab his gun. Grab yours. Caroline left the room and headed towards the elevators as quick as she could without drawing attention. There was no way that she wasn’t heard. She had to get the others. Had to leave.

Why was this different?

Downstairs, she stepped out of the elevators and ran right into Veronica. Mickey stood beside her and she could see Boone approaching.

Caroline froze at the look on her brother’s face. Sadness. Pity. Regret.

“Are you alright?” Veronica asked, reaching out for her. Caroline ducked around the woman.

“I...I can’t.” Caroline said and ran.

 “Caroline!” She heard Mickey shout, but she didn’t stop. She had to keep running. She didn’t understand why she felt this way, but she couldn’t stop to think. Couldn’t stop to talk. She had to get away.

 She shoved her way out of the Tops and into the Strip, where night had fallen. The air was cold but Caroline barely felt it. She kept running, ignoring the man in the nice suit outside the door. He had reached out like he meant to speak to her, but she couldn’t stop.

 She couldn’t stop at the Lucky 38. Arcade was there. Cass was there. Raul was there. She couldn’t explain to them...she couldn’t explain herself. They knew she went there to kill a man. Encouraged it. Well, Arcade didn’t. He’d have a look of disgust on his face. Cass would cheer and offer her whiskey. Raul would pat her on the back and shuffle off to bed, like everything was normal.

 But it wasn’t fucking normal.

Caroline kept running, and didn’t stop for a very long time. She stopped when she realized she had no idea where she was and she was freezing. The cold cleared her mind and she lifted an arm to check on her location using the map on her Pip-Boy.

For some reason it was set on the radio tab. She looked at the list of channels, confused. She didn’t need the radio. Last time she looked at it she was looking at her notes. Odd. She reached over to switch over to her map when her eye caught the name ‘Sierra Madre Broadcast’.

She could go check that out. Give things on the Strip time to die down. Give her time to sort out her thoughts. Yes. She’d go look at that tomorrow. Right now, she needed to find something warm to wear and some place to take shelter for the night.

She had a mission, something to occupy herself, and for now, that’d do.


	17. Bad Moon Rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey has a lot to deal with between his sister and the man she just killed and a face from his past that sets him on edge.

As plans went, this one wasn’t complicated. Mickey would enter the Tops first and head to his usual table to gamble. After an hour, Boone and Veronica would follow. Mickey had wanted everyone to come, wanted Caroline to have all the backup she could get, but Arcade was concerned about Cass and her burn. So he hovered.

Turns out, Cass didn’t like that much. Raul stayed behind to play peace-keeper.

Settling himself down at his favored blackjack table, Mickey put in some chips and began to play. He was in here often enough, nobody looked twice at him. Well, a few of the girls he walked past did, fluttering their eyelashes and giggling, but he didn’t see any harm in it. In fact, he turned his head and lobbed a grin and a wink towards them, sending them into further fits of nervous laughter.

Flirting never got old.

He kept an eye on his watch even as he continued to rake in his winnings, and sixty-two minutes after Mickey entered, he spotted a familiar red beret and turned to look. Boone and Veronica had arrived. Veronica surprisingly was wearing something other than her brown robes. Veronica had her arm thrown around Boone’s waist and was leaning into him. The sniper looked vaguely uncomfortable, but Mickey doubted anyone else would pick up on it.

They wandered upstairs after taking a brief tour of the casino, and after Mickey won his next hand (ten of spades and ten of hearts against the dealer’s six of clubs and ten of diamonds) he stood and collected his chips. It was almost showtime. He pocketed the chips with the intent of cashing them later, and went looking for any sign of Benny.

Mickey tried not to be too angry when he saw the man standing at the other end of the casino, chatting it up with his guards like he didn’t have a care in the world. Like he didn’t try and murder his baby sister. Although it was probably commonplace for him at this point. Instead of pulling his pistol and shooting the man where he stood, Mickey spun and went upstairs to take a position right by the staircase.

The weight of his pistol sat heavy at the small of his back, but it was a necessary precaution. He normally didn’t like bringing it, since the Chairmen usually confiscated it, but somehow they missed it this time. Boone and Veronica had their own weapons, Boone a small pistol also tucked into his waistband, and Veronica a set of brass knuckles since she preferred hand-to-hand combat over firearms. Mickey wasn’t about to complain, he had seen first hand how devastating she could be with that Power Fist of hers. Even without it, he was willing to bet she could pack quite a lot of power behind her hand.

Mickey dug into his pockets for the pack of cigarettes he kept for situations like this, when he wanted to ignore the plan and go in guns blazing. He couldn’t help it. He lit one and stuck it between his lips, hoping that it’d help relieve some stress. His stress level skyrocketed regardless when he spotted Caroline walking past the front desk. He hadn’t seen her come in or do her walk-around of the place, which bothered him. He was normally so observant of his surroundings, but he supposed his head was never on completely straight when it came to Caroline. She was heading towards the elevators now, giving him a brief smile and a thumbs up just before she disappeared from view. Everything was going according to plan so far.

Finishing his smoke, he snuffed the cigarette out in the ashtray on the nearest table and went back downstairs to sit at one of the blackjack tables again. It’d let him keep an eye on the elevators.

Mickey was up several hundred caps later when Caroline emerged from the elevators. Veronica had moved in that direction to wait for her, settling herself at another blackjack table as an observer. Mickey saw the cheery wink, a sign that everything was going to plan. He turned his focus back to his game as she passed, but she didn’t even look his direction. She seemed focused on something. Hopefully she’d share what she learned later.

The problems started when Mickey saw the checkered coat from the corner of his eye. Benny was moving towards the elevators, probably going up to his room for the night. He was really curious now as to what Caroline’s plan was. Did she set a trap? They’d certainly find out here shortly.

Veronica’s head whipped around to look at Mickey as Benny passed and Mickey resisted rolling his eyes. Covert clearly wasn’t something she was skilled at. He jerked his head to the right, away from the tables, and gathered his new winnings. His pockets were heavy with the little pieces of plastic, giving him a feeling of a job well done. But the night wasn’t over yet.

“What’s she doing?” Veronica met up with Mickey and the two leaned in close to keep their voices low.

“Not a clue, but I imagine she’s got it under control. Where’s Boone?” Mickey murmured back. Veronica shrugged.

“I have no idea. But he’s First Recon. If we saw him, he wouldn’t be doing his job right.” Veronica replied and sighed. Mickey ran his hands through his hair absently, thinking.

“I’m gonna go cash these and look for him. Keep an eye out, but be ready to leg it if something blows up.” Mickey rattled the chips in his pocket and Veronica nodded. He needed to free up some space, and the caps were smaller and lighter.

“You think something might?” Veronica asked. Mickey shook his head.

“After these past few days, I wouldn’t be surprised. I’ll be back.” Mickey said to her and walked away, towards the staircase. He took them two at a time, heading for the cashier to get his money. Caps were also useful for a distraction. Throw some on the ground in front of people, and even the nicest dressed gamblers will be on their hands and knees scooping up the little bits of metal.

Five hundred and thirty four caps later, Mickey was on his way back down to look for Boone when he spotted the man at the base of the stairs. He had his arms crossed and looked even more displeased than usual.

“She went up after him.” Was all the man in the beret had to say, and Mickey looked over at Veronica, who was hovering in the hallway, twisting her hands. Nobody seemed to mind, but it did look suspicious.

“Anyone else go up?” Mickey continued towards Veronica, Boone trailing after him.

“No, but I don’t like the idea of her going in there without backup.” Boone said quietly. Mickey looked over at the man. It was hardly the first time he wondered about the sniper and his feelings, and he doubted it’d be the last. They joined Veronica in the hallway, pulling her aside to wait.

“Neither do I. Looks like we wait now.”

They didn’t have to wait long. Fifteen minutes later, the elevator doors opened and Caroline stepped out. Mickey’s heart shattered in his chest when he saw the look on her face, the wide, horrified eyes. He’d have given anything to save her from that. It was different, killing a man in combat, when your life was on the line in that second. Making the conscious decision to take a life, even in this case, was harder on the soul. She was just a kid.

“Are you alright?” Veronica darted forward, reaching out for Caroline. Caroline ducked away from the other woman with a jerky, frightened motion.

“I…I can’t.” She said in a quiet, broken voice, and started running.

“Caroline!” Mickey shouted, taking off after her. She was quick and agile, ducking around one of the Chairmen who moved to stop her. Mickey wasn’t so lucky, and one of the other Chairmen caught his arm, pulling him to a stop.

“What’s the deal, pal?” The man in the suit demanded but Mickey ignored him and wrenched his arm free and kept going forward. Veronica simply shoved past anyone, Boone trailing after her, and the three of them managed to make it to the door and started fighting to get through the crowd of people coming into the casino for dinner and whatever show was going on upstairs.

Outside there wasn’t a sign of her, but the three of them pressed forward. There was really only one way she could go. Veronica and Boone were ahead of him, but Mickey could catch up to them easy enough.

At least, that’s what he thought, until a face in his peripheral vision caused every muscle in his body to lock up and he slid to a halt. The other two didn’t even notice. The sounds of the Strip were muffled by the blood rushing in his head and slowly he turned to face the man, every fiber of his being screaming at him to run instead. He just couldn’t make his brain and his body cooperate.

“She seems to be in quite a hurry, doesn’t she?” Vulpes Inculta stood in front of him, dressed in a tidy suit and hat. He could have been dressed in Brotherhood of Steel power armor and Mickey would still know the face anywhere. A smirk played on the Legionary’s lips and Mickey glared at him.

“What do you want?” Mickey bit out, his hands curling into fists. Almost everything he knew told him to draw his weapon, to fire it until he couldn’t anymore. The man in front of him was pure evil and had to be stopped.

“With you? Nothing. Caroline, however, has intrigued Caesar. You and I both know little escapes his notice.” Vulpes replied, his tone pleasant. Mickey took a step forward at Caroline’s name, but the man didn’t even flinch.

“Leave her alone. I’m only warning you once.” Mickey’s tone was quiet. Deadly. The only reason why he hadn’t shot Vulpes dead now was because the part of Mickey’s mind that wanted him dead was completely overshadowed by Mickey’s sense of self-preservation. It wouldn’t end well for either of them if Mickey opened fire.

“Or you’ll do what, exactly? Things didn’t go well the last time you tried to keep someone from me, if you remember.” Vulpes kept his expression pleasant, but there was a dangerous undertone in his voice. Mickey remembered, of course. It was impossible to forget.

“I kept more away from you than you realize.” Mickey retorted. Vulpes’s grin widened.

“That’s what you think. But I’m not here to reminisce, as much as I enjoyed our times together. I imagine your sister is long gone by now, so give her this. Her crimes against the Legion have been forgiven, and this will allow her safe passage through our lands. I trust you can tell her how to find us.” Vulpes handed over an amulet and Mickey took it without thinking. He didn’t plan on giving it to Caroline anyways.

“So you’ll stop sending assassins after her?” Mickey asked, eyeing the Mark of Caesar. It was a heavy gold reproduction of the Legion Aureus. He’d only seen someone given this one other time, but heard of it a few more. It was never given to a woman.

“I don’t recall Caesar sending assassins after her.” Vulpes spun and walked away, leaving Mickey standing with something incredibly dangerous. He hastily shoved it into his pocket before anyone saw.

After Vulpes was out of sight, he allowed himself to turn and hurry towards the Lucky 38, where Caroline undoubtedly needed someone to talk to. He’d think about Vulpes and his parting words later.

* * *

 

“What do you mean she’s not here?” Mickey demanded when he reached the suite and found everyone there except Caroline. His heart thundered in his chest. This was not what he wanted to hear.

“She must not have come up here, unless she went upstairs to see House. I don’t think she did. Did you see the look on her face?” Veronica was in the master suite, placing things quickly into a bag.

“Son of a bitch.” Mickey muttered, scooping up Caroline’s abandoned bag and gathering supplies as well. Ammo, weapons, medical supplies. There was no telling where she had gotten off to, what she’d need. He kept his pistol but picked up her hunting rifle. She’d want that.

“Where were you? You were right behind us when we left the Tops.” Boone demanded, and Mickey turned to see the man already packed and ready to travel. That unexpectedly annoyed him.

“Dealing with another problem. There are Frumentarii on the Strip.” Mickey replied hotly. The sniper narrowed his eyes at Mickey.

“What are Frumentarii?” Veronica asked, closing the bag and lifting it onto her shoulders. Mickey saw that she had traded the brass knuckles for her Power Fist again.

“Caesar’s spies. Hand picked by Vulpes himself, so I hear.” Arcade said, coming up to stand by Boone. He had his own bag but looked indecisive. Mickey was sure he wanted to stay here and keep an eye on Cass, but he was also sure the doctor was concerned about Caroline.

“Oh good. Spies, assassins….what’s he going to send after her next, his pet deathclaw?” Veronica muttered, shaking her head.

“The assassins weren’t for her. We gotta find her before the spies do, though.” Mickey threw the pack onto his back and pushed past Boone and Arcade to get his pistol holster, which he remembered leaving in the sitting room.

“Well then who the hell were they after?” Boone called to him. Mickey shook his head and gave a short laugh.

“You’re hardly the only ones who’ve pissed off the Legion. C’mon, we can’t leave her out there. Temperature is gonna drop fast, she’s barely armed and clearly upset. God I hope it’s just from killing Benny.” Mickey didn’t even want to think about what else could have gone down up there. It would take his mind nowhere pleasant. Mickey headed towards the elevator

“Mickey…” Arcade started, looking back towards the bedroom where Cass rested. MIckey rolled his eyes and told the securitron to summon the elevator. He didn’t have time for Arcade to be indecisive.

“Gannon, if you come back in this room you’ll leave it missing some parts.” Cass called as if she could sense his dilemma. Raul appeared in the doorway with a grin on his face.

“Better do as she says. I’ve been around long enough, I think I can deal with a burn. It’s healing just fine.” The ghoul said. Arcade sighed and lifted his bag onto his shoulders and fiddled with the straps.

“It is, but keep a close eye on it regardless. If there’s any sign of infection, take her straight to the Old Mormon Fort, let Julie look at it.” Arcade instructed. Mickey watched from the corner of his eye as the doctor pulled his plasma defender from the holster and checked the energy cell.

“You got it. Bring our girl home. Poor thing.” Raul turned and went back into the bedroom. The elevator doors opened and MIckey realized he was tapping his foot and stopped it, pushing himself forward and into the elevator. Arcade, Boone, and Veronica followed with various expressions of concern on their faces.

As the car descended, Mickey found himself tapping his foot again. Couldn’t this thing go faster?

“So….what exactly did you do to piss off the Legion?” Veronica asked in the silence and Mickey frowned. He understood that she was just curious, and in her position he’d be asking the same question, but right now the question just annoyed him. It was nosy, intrusive. He barely knew the girl.

“It’s not something I want to talk about.” Mickey replied and it wasn’t until he felt Arcade’s fingers pulling his apart that he realized his hands were balled into fists. Mickey looked over at Arcade and found him looking back with sympathy in his eyes.

“Yeah, I get that. But I feel like we should know a little bit, since chances are they’ll still be looking for us while we look for Caroline. If someone’s gonna try and kill me for being around you, I kind of want to know why.” Veronica said, turning to look at MIckey. He watched her eyes flick down briefly, saw Arcade’s hand wrapped around his. Mickey stared back, challenge in his eyes. She didn’t seem bothered.

“Leave it alone. We all have our secrets.” Boone said suddenly and Veronica turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Not the kind that’s going to get the rest of you killed.” She said defensively, crossing her arms.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Arcade eyed the Power Fist pointedly and she dropped her arms, tucking it out of sight. Mickey watched with interest but kept quiet. It wasn’t the time or place to be having discussions about anyone’s secrets.

The elevator doors opened and the securitron outside announced that it was the casino floor. They all spilled out of the elevator and onto the Strip, determined to find Caroline, but none of them were ready to admit they had no idea where to start looking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Dead Money starts next chapter. I'll more than likely be splitting it into parts, since it's turning out to be pretty long. Hope you guys enjoy it, and thanks to whoever sent me a message on tumblr! I appreciate reviews of all kinds! Tell me what I'm doing right, what I'm doing wrong, if there's anything you'd like to see. I'll do my best to respond to everyone. If you want to follow me on tumblr, my url is below!
> 
> http://ladylaiacona.tumblr.com/


	18. Dead Money Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nightmare that is the Sierra Madre is not something Caroline was prepared for in any state of mind, let alone the one she's in now.

She couldn’t remember the last time she was so happy to see the sun rise in the morning. It had been an exceptionally cold night, and even the jacket she pulled off the corpse of a dead wanderer had done nothing to keep her warm. She managed to start a small fire with the lighter in her pocket as she sheltered in what was left of an old building, but hadn’t been able to sleep. Being awake all night had given her plenty of time to think, as much as she tried not to. She wished for some Med-X so she could pass out, but with her luck she’d just have nightmares about Benny.

She checked her map and noticed that she wasn’t all that far from where the Sierra Madre signal was leading her, and she debated on whether or not she could stop in at Camp Forlorn Hope and see if they had anything they could give her. In her hysteria last night, she had left the Strip unprepared for a trek in the Wasteland and she was thirsty, wearing very little and had little ammo. She decided against it, chances were they wouldn’t have anything for her, as under-supplied as they were, and she didn’t want to explain what she was doing out this way again without Boone.

Now that she thought about him, she knew Craig was going to be so pissed at her for wandering off like this. She wasn’t looking forward to that conversation. Or any of them, really. She couldn’t explain herself. None of them would understand. Hell, she didn’t even really understand. Killing Benny had been brutal, but she’d killed people before. It didn’t make sense in her mind.

Putting out the embers from her fire, she gathered what little she had and continued on, keeping an eye out for any enemies. Even geckos would be a problem, as she had little ammo to spare. She prayed to whoever was listening that she wouldn’t run into any Legion assassins. They’d kill her for sure.

Traveling on, she skirted around the NCR camp, although she was aware they saw her anyways, and found herself standing next to an old drainage pipe. This was where the signal led her. It was an odd thing to be out here, in the middle of nowhere, until she got a closer look at it. It was a disguised bunker entrance, and she wrenched the hatch open to see a ladder leading her down into it. Might as well check it out, right? It probably wasn’t the Sierra Madre (because if there was a casino right here, someone would have known its location by now) but there might be some useful things in there. She’d fiddle with her Pip-Boy later to see if there was a way to calibrate it for more accurate map readings.

Inside, she found a small room with a staircase leading down. There was a body in the room, missing its head. She frowned and looked through the corpse’s things. Nothing useful to her, but there was a jar of something she couldn’t recognize. There was a box of potato crisps as well, which she considered eating until her stomach rolled at the thought of putting anything it it. She was still freaking out over her own brutality, and if she looked at her hands too long she could swear she still saw Benny’s blood all over them.

Standing, she looked at the wall and found a poster for the Sierra Madre with an attractive woman on it. Maybe she was in the right place after all. Turning around, she walked back over to the staircase and started her way down, examining the roughly painted signs directing her down the steps towards the Sierra Madre.

There was a door at the bottom of the staircase, and she opened it and stepped inside. There was a radio on the table at the far end of the hall, and an old worn tapestry with what looked like the symbol for the Brotherhood of Steel. Was this an old bunker of theirs? She’d have to ask Veronica, when she made it back to the Lucky 38. Hopefully she’d have her head on straight by then.

Some of the bunker was caved in, and another hallway took her to a locked door and a terminal she couldn’t get to respond to her commands. Leaving the terminal, she went down the hallway towards the radio, which was playing the same recording picked up on her Pip-Boy.

As she approached, the vents above began to hiss. She looked up and saw a reddish cloud coming from them, and it took a moment for her fuzzy, sleep deprived mind to realize that she should probably leave, as it wasn’t just clean air being pumped in. It was some kind of gas.

Her moment of hesitation was her undoing, as she began to feel dizzy almost immediately. It was getting hard to keep her eyes open - was she falling asleep? Was this toxic? It was too late now. She struggled backwards, towards the steps, but her legs buckled underneath her. She clutched at the walls, trying to get away from the gas.

She was so stupid. She shouldn’t have come alone. She was going to die here. She wasn’t ever going to remember her past. She wasn’t going to be able to help Craig through his grief, or help Veronica with the Brotherhood. She wasn’t going to get to know her brother again.

“....so sorry….Mickey.” Caroline mumbled as her eyes closed.

* * *

Caroline was surprised to feel consciousness returning to her. She groaned and struggled to her feet, rubbing at her eyes. She was somewhere other than the bunker; some village bathed in an reddish light, and before her sat a fountain.

A holoprojector flickered to life and she stared at the image it projected. It was an old man wearing some kind of robes, different from the everyday clothing she had seen on other wastelanders.

“Are you listening? Good. From now on, when I talk, listen. And follow my instructions. Play stupid, play clever, make the mistake of saying ‘no?’ That collar on your neck’ll go off and take your head with it.” A voice was projected from speakers somewhere and Caroline’s hands flew up to her throat. Sure enough, there was a collar wrapped around it, and she tugged at it briefly. It was loose enough she could slip a finger underneath it, but that was about it. Panic swelled up inside of her.

“Collar? Why? What are you talking about?” She had no clue who this man was, why she had to follow his instructions. Was it an explosive collar? Her mind was still a little fuzzy but her fear was rapidly forcing her to wake up and think clearly.

“It’s like that Pip-Boy on your wrist, except filled with explosives. A little radio of the Old World, just needed some tuning. Do what I say and the collar won’t go off...refuse, try to run, disobey me? I’ll kill you and find someone else. There’s no escape from here until I let you go. The sooner you accept your situation, the better.”

Caroline swallowed, feeling the tightness of the collar more clearly. She hated the feeling of it around her throat, wanted to rip the thing off and fling it as far away as she could. But if the man on the projection was serious, he’d blow the thing up and she’d lose her head. Maybe she deserved it for being so stupid, for killing Benny, but she wanted the chance to get out of here.

“What do you want?” Caroline asked, clenching her hands into the fabric of her clothing to resist the urge to tug at the collar again. The sooner she did as he asked, the sooner she’d get the thing off and get out of here.

“That structure you see above the fountain - the Sierra Madre Casino - you need to break inside. A...heist. Too many years in the making. But to get inside, avoid its traps… you’ll need to gather the team. As I’ve found, one cannot do it alone.” The man continued and Caroline looked up at the building in the distance. It towered above all the others, lit up by some unseen lighting. She had to get up there and break in? With who? What team? She wished her friends were here. They’d help her, no questions asked.

Well, maybe some questions. But they’d undoubtedly help.

“So I need others to pull off this heist. Who?” Who else could be around here? Others he’d gassed and dragged here like he did with her? She wished she had come here with the others. With Mickey at the very least.

“Around the Villa there are three other collars like yours - Collar 8, 12 and 14. Find all three and get them here, to the fountain. Then we’ll talk more. And should you get any ideas about killing each other and taking the treasure of the Sierra Madre for yourself - a warning. All your collars are linked. One of you dies, you all die. If that’s what it takes to make you cooperate, so be it.” He told her. Caroline looked around at the Villa as if she expected someone to come wandering out to meet her, someone else with a collar. She’d have to find them, but she really didn’t want to go alone into the Villa in the first place.

“Why would you do that?” She didn’t like the idea of having someone’s life linked to hers. She’d already killed one person. If she died, she’d kill others, and she didn’t want more weight on her soul. It already felt heavy enough.

“Because in some respects, breaking into the Sierra Madre is easier than breaking human instinct. Greed. The villa is filled with corpses. Some killed by the dangers here. Some by me. Others...turned on each other. Once they realized the Sierra Madre could be theirs, they cared nothing for their freedom...their survival..or each others.” The man explained and and Caroline looked around again, this time for enemies.

“Well, if there are people trying to kill me, I need to be armed. Where’s my gear?” Not that she had much to begin with, just a few pistols and a small amount of ammo, but it was better than nothing.

“The Sierra Madre has many defenses, means of screening guests for illicit or dangerous items. Your arrival here weaponless was not my intention. The Casino, this Villa...it takes anything with even a trace of radioactivity, traces of unknown substances and returns it home. To the bunker. I was unable to find a workaround.” The man paused and Caroline chewed on her lip. She wasn’t great at hand to hand fighting, but she’d probably learn real quick or die. And she really didn’t want to die.

“I haven’t left you defenseless, and the Sierra Madre’s security in some respects, can help you if you’re resourceful enough. There’s a holorifle at the base of the fountain, something you can use if you’re familiar enough with guns.” Caroline looked down and sure enough there was a rifle of some type. She was unfamiliar with it, and it was likely an energy weapon, but it’d have to do for now.

“Alright. So I find the other three people with bomb collars and bring them back here? What then?”

“I’ve downloaded the instructions and markers on your Pip-Boy in case you forget. And yes, I have access to that device on your wrist. Get the other three here, after that, I’ll have more instructions for you. Do this, I’ll let you go. I’ll let all of you go.”

Caroline had a ton more questions, so many things she could ask, but she decided to just get this over with. Her curiosity didn’t matter, her life did. Those others were wandering out there, and if they died, so did she. It was time to move on.

“That’s all I need to know.” She said, lifting the rifle and inspecting it. It was heavy, about as heavy as her service rifle or hunting rifle. A weight she was used to, something familiar, even if the rifle itself wasn’t.

“Good. If necessary, I will guide you through the Villa’s broadcast systems. If you get lost, return here and I’ll direct you. I’ve downloaded instructions on an audio log to your Pip-Boy in case you can’t read. If you forget why you’re here, let my voice remind you.” The projection of the man disappeared, replaced by a projection of a woman on top of the fountain. It began to recite the same broadcast she had heard on her Pip-Boy.

She wasn’t likely to forget why she was here, with the weight of the collar on her throat and lifted her Pip-Boy to see exactly what her mission was.

She had to find three collars, labeled ‘Dog’, ‘Dean Domino’, and ‘Christine’. The first name meant nothing to her (was she looking for an actual dog?) but the other two were interesting. She had seen posters in the wasteland for a Dean Domino, some type of entertainer. They were Pre-War posters. Did he survive the war somehow? He could be some kind of ghoul. Veronica had mentioned a Christine as well, but surely it couldn't’ be the same one. Caroline was sure plenty of people were named Christine. Her own middle name was Christine, after all.

Caroline decided to go look for this ‘Dog’ first. It was collar number 8, and having a dog as a companion couldn’t be a bad thing, could it? Unless it was feral or vicious, but someone had to put the collar on it. Plus, it could wander into a trap and get itself killed, along with everyone else with a collar.

Before she left the relative safety of the fountain, she took stock of what she had. She was wearing a plain jumpsuit that provided no protection at all, and the only weapon she had was the holorifle and a pitiful amount of ammo. Looking around, she spotted some kind of vending machine and wandered over to it. She didn’t have any caps, but there was a casino poker chip that looked like it might fit. She picked up all the chips she could find. She still didn’t have enough for anything in the machine, but it was mostly just food anyways, nothing useful to her. She’d gather more poker chips and see if there were other machines around.

Caroline followed her Pip-Boy marker towards the first collar, rifle held at the ready. She kept an eye on her surroundings and moved as quietly as she could, not wanting to give away her position. As she moved through the villa, she spotted several messages written on the wall, none of which made her feel any more comfortable. God, she wanted out of here. She wanted her brother, wanted Craig, hell, even one of the Kings or an NCR trooper would be welcome right about now.

The man from before began speaking through her Pip-Boy Speakers, startling her. “ _Watch out for the Villa inhabitants. They can be difficult to kill unless you chop them apart or disintegrate them._ ”

“Oh good. Yeah. That’s no problem at all. Easy.” Caroline muttered, holding her rifle at the ready. She crept up some stairs and immediately spotted what he was talking about.

There was no way this was a human, not with the way it moved. It wore some type of gas mask and the eyes glowed. She knew this was what he was talking about. It still hadn't’ spotted her, so she took aim with the rifle and pulled the trigger.

It hit the thing square in the back and dissolved into a pile of ash. It wasn’t going to get up after that. At least, she hoped. Those things were spooky, but easy to deal with as long as she snuck up on them.  There were more poker chips in the fountain nearby and she picked those up and pocketed them as well and continued on her way.

Her Pip-Boy led her through the maze of the Villa to a police station, and outside there was a message scribbled on the walls ‘Find God in the simplest of beasts’, but it was crudely written, as if a child did it. Letters were backwards and it was sloppy. She opened the door to the police station and stepped inside.

She closed the door behind her and froze as her Pip-Boy crackled to life with another message, this one to avoid speakers and radios because they interfere with the collar signal. Getting too close to them would blow her collar. Caroline didn’t move, her eyes fixed on the occupant of the cell. A super mutant. A nightkin, judging by its dark blue skin. It didn’t appear to notice her yet, and it wasn’t going anywhere anyways unless it could break out of the cell somehow.

There was a radio across the room and Caroline wondered if she could destroy it so it wouldn’t interfere with her collar. A gunshot would alert the nightkin in the cell, but she couldn’t move forward without her collar beeping. So she shot both radios and approached the cell. He didn’t appear to notice her.

“Noise makes my stomach hurt…” The nightkin muttered and Caroline watched as he rocked on the floor. A quick search of the desk gave her a police pistol and some ammo, and it was a weapon she was more familiar with. She couldn’t use it disintegrate the things wandering around the Villa unfortunately. She’d improvise though.

Exploring to her right, she found a few more weapons and some kind of stash, giving her some much needed supplies. Still no armor though. Leaving that hallway, she went to the left, wary of the nightkin. He didn’t seem to notice her, still mumbling to himself.

Caroline froze as her collar began to beep again. There was another radio somewhere, and after a moment she spotted it tucked underneath the desk. She shot it and watched it explode as well, and her collar fell silent. She breathed a sigh of relief. She moved forward again and then stopped as her collar started beeping again.

If the collar exploding didn’t kill her, the stress of hearing it beep would. She found another radio and shot it but was still just as tense. This was going to be a bigger problem than the Villa inhabitants.

Finding a staircase, she made her way to the basement of the police station. Her Pip-Boy was telling her that the collar was in this building somewhere, but the nightkin didn’t appear to be wearing one.

As she walked through, her Pip-Boy speakers broadcast another voice, not the old man but another one. It explained that the nightkin in the cage upstairs was the ‘Dog’ she was looking for. She didn’t like the sound of the person on the speakers. He sounded cruel, and anyone who could lock up a nightkin wasn’t someone to mess around with. Still, she continued down, looking for the source of the second voice.

Once she reached the last door, she heard the voice again. It gave her chills. She didn’t like it, it reminded her too much of Vulpes. Caroline paused to shake her head. Those were more thoughts she didn’t need. She needed to focus on the mission. She’d deal with everything else once she made it out of here.

“ _That’s me. There, on the table._ ” The table held a radio, which Caroline shot before her collar started to beep again. “ _The disk. My voice.”_

Caroline walked over and picked it up. It was a holotape. She was confused but pocketed it anyways.

“ _If you're who I think you are, you came to fetch Dog, use him to drag others here. Now I'll use you and that Pip-Boy you're wearing. You’re smart. Clever. The key to Dog's cage is simple. Take my voice to the cage above. Let me speak to the beast inside. Then you and I... we can talk._ ”

Her Pip-Boy was quiet again and she stood there for a long time. She didn’t want to speak to the voice, but she had to get to the nightkin inside the cage, who was apparently the ‘Dog’ she was looking for. Why couldn’t it have been an actual dog? Still, she made her way upstairs again. She wasn’t sure if disobeying this voice would get her collar blown too.

She couldn’t pick the lock on the cell door to get inside, and her attempts to call out to the nightkin didn’t accomplish anything, so Caroline decided to play the holotape she found and see what happened.

“ _Dog! Back in the cage!”_ The holotape broadcast clearly from her Pip-Boy speakers, and suddenly the super mutant stood up.

“What have we here? You weren’t who I was expecting. I’m disappointed. Still, even if you aren't my intended guest, you take directions. Good. You can't have been an idiot to figure out how to release me from my cage....or perhaps you are, with that leash on your arm and the one around your neck... with our collars and manacles, why, we may as well be kin.” It was the voice from her Pip-Boy. Caroline blinked, looking every bit the idiot he thought she was. She didn’t care. What the fuck was the deal here?

“What happened to your voice?” Caroline asked, wishing she was hearing the other voice, the one she heard mumbling when she first entered. It sounded less sinister than this one.

“I’m the voice of reason. I sleep sometimes, down in the basement, in the cage. Now that I’m awake, Dog goes back in the cage. Dog knows I'm here, but can’t do anything about it. I’m his conscience, keep him tame, keep him from hurting us, from doing foolish things. I’ve been trapped in here for some time, then you come along and let me out. So you opened my cage for a reason. Now I want to know why.”

None of this made any sense to her. It made her feel crazy. Was she crazy? Did the stress of killing Benny and all the other things in the wasteland make her crack? She doubted it. That meant that this situation was crazy, but in order to get out of here, she had to deal with it.

She asked more questions, trying to avoid cringing each time the voice spoke. Turns out, this nightkin was Dog. This nightkin was also ‘God’. Caroline wasn’t religious, at least not now, she she assumed that it was just ‘Dog’ written backwards, as they seemed to have a split-personality thing going on here. She didn’t know much about nightkin, but had heard Arcade speaking to Mickey about the use of stealth boys and their side effects. Schizophrenia was apparently one of them.

It was a long, confusing, unnerving conversation, but she learned plenty. The old man’s name was Elijah. Was it the Father Elijah Veronica had spoken of? Maybe. It was too much of a coincidence. The man Veronica spoke of didn’t sound the same though. She learned that Dog brought her to the fountain after she had fallen unconscious. God spoke of the greed that drew her here, but she didn’t think he’d listen if she tried to explain it wasn’t greed but the need to escape from her guilt. Also curiosity. Caroline kept quiet, let him finish speaking.

“I need to get you out of there.” She said when he was done. She wasn’t the old man he was looking for, but maybe they’d find him. However, God had other plans and didn’t plan on leaving the cage. Caroline glared at the nightkin.

“Do you want to die? If you don’t cooperate, he’s gonna blow both our collars. I don’t know about you, but I like living.” Caroline growled, grabbing the bars on the cell. The metal rattled but the nightkin didn’t seem impressed.

“Then I still win. I’d rather die in this cell than have Dog follow him any longer, follow his orders, his commands, desperate for recognition. I’d rather be free, let go of this shell, then have it cage me any longer.”

Caroline bit back a scream. She didn’t want to die here, not with a collar on her neck. She wanted to be free too, and said as much to God.

“They all wanted their freedom at first. Then they realized they could get inside the Sierra Madre. After that, their freedom wasn’t important anymore. They couldn’t let go. Just like the Old Man. So you say you want your freedom. No...even if you feel that way, it won’t last. You’ll forget, get greed-blind, and you’ll turn.” God said, still stubborn. If his death wouldn’t cause hers, she’d have shot him by now.

Caroline paused at the thought. She’d have murdered him because he didn’t want to cooperate. What kind of monster was she turning into?

“Sounds like Dog might be more willing to get out of the cage than you.” She said after shaking her head to clear her thoughts. She’d think about Benny later. Right now, she needed to focus on her mission.

God laughed at her. Told her she wasn’t getting Dog out of his cage or the cage they were in. But it sounded like Dog could get out of there at any time he wanted. He sounded a little more pleasant to deal with too. God didn’t seem to think that she could get Dog to open the door though. Dog didn’t know where the key was. But Caroline did. God also seemed to think that Dog would eat her if she let him out.

“He’ll listen to the Old Man though, right? I have his voice on my Pip-Boy, just like I had yours. I’ll let him out, and play the recording.”

“You...Don’t play it! If you do, I'll find a way to get out of the cage. I'll murder you, crush your arms and legs until…” God snarled, lunging forward. Caroline stepped back but raised her Pip-Boy.

“Just calm down. Do what I ask, and I won’t play it.”

“No, you wouldn’t. If you did, you won’t escape this place alive. I’d shatter every single one of your limbs and leave you here. I’ll prop your broken body up in view of the Sierra Madre, so you can see what you came to steal...forever out of reach as you die.” God’s voice quieted again, becoming just as calm and sinister as before. Caroline tried not to let her nervousness show. She wasn’t a gambler, didn’t have a poker face. She didn’t have a choice but to be honest here.

“I can’t convince you I’m not here for the Sierra Madre or the Old Man, so I’ll prove it.”

“Prove it? How. Words are worthless.”

Caroline dropped her arm to her side and smiled tightly at God.

“I have the power to let Dog out of his cage. I’m going to prove it by not doing it.” She said simply. She didn’t have any cards left to play. If this didn’t work, she’d let Dog out and take her chances.

“Hmm. No...no you’re not. Even though Dog’s more docile, easier to control. You may regret this. This place...this place is where creatures like Dog can survive. The people that fill its streets. He is vicious, more vicious than them. His hunger can help you more than I can. When I am in control, this shell is difficult to fight in.”

Wasn’t that tempting? She wouldn’t have to put up with this voice, but she already gave her word, didn’t she? Plus, she didn’t want to risk whatever Dog could do to her. He may be easier to control, but she knew what she felt like when she was hungry. She couldn’t fight off a hungry nightkin if he wanted to eat her.

“I think we’ll manage.” She replied with a shrug of her shoulders. She could always let Dog out later if she needed. She’d find a way to keep him out, keep him obedient long enough for her to finish this and escape.

“I am not sure you belong here. No...you don’t belong here. Yet, you came this far. And I’m not interested in remaining here any longer. I’ll unlock the cage.” God said and she sighed and smiled at the nightkin, stepping back to give him more room.

“Alright. Let’s get out of here. Sooner we do this, sooner we’re free.”

Navigating back to the fountain wasn’t easy, though. She found herself getting turned around many times. It should have been simple. She had a map on her Pip-Boy and she was normally pretty good at navigating. It must be her sleep deprivation and stress of the situation.

She was also unnerved by the nightkin following behind her. She wished he was silent, but instead he kept muttering. About her Pip-Boy, about Dog, about everything that seemed to piss him off. She pretended not to hear him. She hoped the others she was supposed to gather weren’t so terrifying. She also hoped they wouldn’t threaten her, but that she was used to.

They encountered more of those things in the gas masks as she tried to find her way back to the fountain. The nightkin was certainly useful to have around since fighting these things wasn’t easy with the limited equipment she had, but together they managed to take them down. And if the easy way God ripped their limbs off bothered her, she didn’t say anything.

Finally, she found the fountain where she woke up. She wondered how she’d convince God to stay here, since his constant irritable mumblings were really starting to get to her. She could navigate this place better on her own, without worrying if the nightkin was going to take her head off at any moment.

“You have something on your mind, clever one. Speak.” He said to her when she stopped at the fountain. She sighed and turned to face him.

“I think you should wait here. The Old Man told me to gather everyone and bring them here. I’ll be quicker on my own, get less attention from the….things wandering around here.”

“You want us to split up. All three of us?” God asked and Caroline almost looked around for the third person when she remembered Dog.

“Yeah. It’s for the best, I think.” She replied, chewing nervously on her bottom lip.

“I’ll make more progress on my own as well. Just don’t get us killed.” God growled and stalked over to wait by the fountain. Caroline sighed in relief and started walking towards the next marker on her map, collar number 12. Christine. Hopefully whoever she was, she’d be more pleasant than the nightkin.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dog/God was not my favorite companion by far. Not sure if you could tell. He thoroughly creeped me out. Anyways, next two chapters will be Caroline gathering the rest of the Sierra Madre gang, and then we'll take a trip back to the Mojave for a little bit to see how Mickey and the others are doing. 
> 
> Here's a hint: not well. 
> 
> Leave me a review, let me know what you think! If you wanna be friends, my tumblr url is below!
> 
> ladylaiacona.tumblr.com


	19. Dead Money Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caroline gathers more allies for her task in the Sierra Madre, but the hazards of the area are starting to get to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. I've got no excuse as to why this is so late. I do apologize. With school and all, they might be a little less frequent, but I'm still here, I promise!

The Medical District, where Caroline found herself looking for Christine, had issues of its own. More speakers, making her collar beep. Thankfully, some of them she could just shoot and continue on her way.

The others, the shielded ones, as Elijah said to her over her Pip-Boy, were ones she just had to avoid.

Caroline’s pretty brown hair was going to be gone, fallen out from the stress of this, by the time she made it out of here. She wondered how she’d look without hair. Craig looked alright, covering his scalp with the First Recon beret. Maybe she’d do the same, and they’d look even more alike. She wondered if he had a spare pair of sunglasses too.

She explored the area as thoroughly as she could, looking for anything that might be of use to her. She found some food, which she knew she’d have to force herself to eat at some point, but what she was really looking for was a bed. Sleep was something she needed before she dropped of exhaustion and those things came by to eat her or drag her away or whatever it was they did. Her reaction times were slowing, and she couldn’t think all that clearly. She needed rest.

She found what appeared to be an apartment, mostly destroyed but the bed was still there, and she dropped her gear beside it and climbed onto the bed, one hand wrapped around the police pistol she found at the station. Her body relaxed into the mattress and she closed her eyes, hoping for just a few hours of sleep.

* * *

_It was all a blur, the fight, the black and white coat struggling underneath her. She felt the knife come down again and again into his chest, felt the hot wet rush of his blood over her hands, on her face, but he just laughed at her. She stabbed him over and over and over but he wouldn’t stop laughing._

“ _I might be dead, baby, but I’ll always be around. This blood’s never washing off, ya dig?”_

* * *

 Caroline woke with a start, gun clenched tightly in her hands. Of course her mind couldn’t let her rest. Of course she was having more nightmares. It couldn’t wait until she was out of this place, could it?

Shaking her head, trying to clear the echoing sounds of Benny’s laughter (had she ever heard him laugh, or was her brain just making that up?) she looked at her Pip-Boy for the time. Surprisingly, five hours had passed. She had gotten some sleep, not as much as she would have liked, but it was still better than nothing. She didn’t imagine that God was happy about being left alone for that long, but damn it, she had needed the rest. She would have never gotten any of this done without that nap.

Gathering her stuff up, she made her way downstairs and back out onto the street, back towards the the marker where she’d find Christine.

It didn’t take long for her to find the medical clinic and she cautiously stepped inside.

“ _Picking up an emitter signature - watch for security Holograms, dangerous. Don't shoot them - attacking them is useless.”_ Elijah said once she closed the door behind her. She glanced around but the front room seemed clear. Still, she’d proceed cautiously. She couldn’t fight back, but she wasn’t half bad at being sneaky. They couldn’t attack her if they didn’t notice her, now could they?

On the desk in front of her, she found a holotape that was labeled ‘Vending Machine Code - Stimpack’. Did that mean she could get stimpacks from the vending machines scattered around the place? She hoped so. She didn’t have anyone to help her if she got wounded, so she’d have to fend for herself.

Tucking it away, she continued on. Her Pip-Boy said Christine was in this building somewhere.

In one room, she found a couple of corpses, heads clearly missing, like the one she had found in the bunker. Several mannequins had collars around their necks. Caroline did her best to ignore them and scavenged a few supplies from the room, including a set of clothing that was dark in color and pretty light.  It made little noise as she picked it up, and she put it on, as it felt like it gave her a little more protection than the jumpsuit she wore did. She also found a medkit with a couple of bottles of water and some RadAway. She drank both bottles quickly and left the room with one last glance at the bodies. She didn’t want to end up like that.

Down another hallway, Caroline could see a speaker on the far wall, the light on this one red. Elijah spoke up on her Pip-Boy, telling her that these were shielded speakers. Shooting them would do nothing. Creeping forward carefully, she darted into the first room on the left and came face to face with what appeared to be some kind of medical pod. The terminal on the left side of it read ‘Mark IX Auto-Doc’, confirming her initial conclusion. She wasn’t injured, so she left it alone and went to the next room. It also contained an Auto-Doc. It seemed like all the rooms in this hallway did. She couldn’t get to the last two though, not without her collar beeping. She had to find another way. Maybe the way to shut the speakers down was upstairs.

Passing through the main room again, she stopped by the terminal and shifted the hologram guards to patrol on the first floor while she was upstairs. They’d be out of the way and she wouldn’t risk being hurt.

The second floor didn’t get her anything much besides the basement key, a vending machine code for Med-X, and plenty more Sierra Madre chips, which she scooped up gratefully. The Med-X would be nice if she was injured, even though it was likely to put her to sleep, she’d have to remember to find a safe spot before using it.

Now she headed downstairs, looking for the basement door. She had to find some way of shutting those speakers down. She paused at the terminal to shift the holograms back upstairs so they wouldn’t bother her and found the basement door.

Sure enough, the basement had a terminal that shut down the clinic’s main power, killing the speakers. Christine had to be in the rooms beyond them, although how the woman got there Caroline would never know.

“Well, looks like it’s time to go meet Christine.” Caroline said, tucking her gun away and dashing back upstairs.

She tracked the marker on her Pip-Boy to a room with one an Auto-Doc in it. The woman had to be inside, there was nowhere else for her to be. Keying the Auto-Doc open, Caroline stepped back as a woman stumbled out. The woman was hairless and covered with scars, her clothing spattered with blood. There was a collar around her neck too, and the woman blinked up at Caroline and then winced.

“Are you alright?” Caroline asked. The woman opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. One hand reached up and traced a scar just underneath her chin and her eyes widened in alarm.

“Look, I’m here to help.” Caroline tried again. The woman looked back at the Auto-Doc and flinched, and then turned back to Caroline with her fists raised. She took a step back and studied Caroline and Caroline raised her empty hands.

“This isn’t what it looks like, okay?” The woman opened her mouth again, but when no sound came out, she winced again. With a frown, the woman in front of her reached up and touched the collar at her neck, tracing it with her fingertips until she found the lock and tried to open it.

“No! Don’t do that!” Caroline shouted, a little harsher than she meant to. The woman looked surprised, but then saw the collar around Caroline’s throat and raised an eyebrow. Caroline sighed.

“Let’s just say we’re in this together.” Caroline said, softer this time. The woman frowned and shook her head.

“What do you mean by that?” Caroline wasn’t sure how easy travelling with someone who couldn't speak would be. She almost missed the mumblings from Dog/God. The woman shook her head again and drew a line in the air between the two of them. It was Caroline’s turn to frown. This was difficult.

“Look, together we can get out of this.” The woman shook her head once and crossed her arms. Caroline sighed in exasperation.

“I’m not trying to order you around, believe me. But your life is tied to mine.” Caroline told her and watched as the woman looked at the collar for a moment. She then lifted her hand to her face, shaped like a circle, and held it to her eye and looked around briefly. Caroline watched her movements carefully, trying to decipher her meaning.

“Um...you’re looking for someone else, right?” At the woman’s nod, Caroline gave a small smile. “Fine. I can help.”

The woman studied Caroline again and her expression softened. Shaking her head, Caroline watched the woman give a silent sigh and nodded towards the door.

“Alright. Um, come with me, I guess. I’ve got to find one other person.” Caroline said, moving towards the door. The woman, who could only be Christine at this point, nodded and fell into step behind Caroline.

Down the hall, Christine stopped Caroline with a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at the speaker hesitantly. Caroline followed her gaze.

“It’s a decayed speaker. If we stay too long near one, it’ll go off. We should move.” Caroline had killed the power, but who knew what would happen next. Christine tapped her collar and then opened and closed her hand. She then tapped at the collar again and opened and closed her hand faster. After that, she pointed at her collar, Caroline’s, and the Pip-Boy on Caroline’s arm and then opened and closed her hand slowly. Caroline studied the movements, thinking really hard as to what the woman might mean.

“You….you can dampen the signal somehow?” The woman started to nod, then stopped, pointed at her collar and shook her head. Caroline frowned. This was more work than wondering if the super mutant was going to kill her when she turned her back.

“Does it work with any other collar?” She frowned, slowly shook her head, opening her mouth and making the motion of turning a dial, and then points at herself.

“Oh. It’s only your frequency. “ She nods once, and again, points at herself, and then Caroline, and then the Pip-Boy.

“It’s only between us. Right. Gotcha.” Christine nodded and then motioned for Caroline to continue.

Well, that was a useful thing to have around. Maybe she’d take the woman with her to find the last person on her list, a man named Dean Domino. If anything, the speakers would bother her less.

Caroline and Christine stepped outside the medical clinic, and Caroline felt Christine’s hands on her arm pulling. A spear soared through the spot where Caroline used to be, and she dropped behind a pillar and pulled her gun from the holster. This was where things would get tricky, since the villa inhabitants were tricky to kill and she had very limited ammo.

Caroline ducked out of cover and shot one of them through the head twice, the head exploding. Hopefully it wouldn’t get up after that. There were two others, and Caroline watched Christine move in, unarmed towards one of them. Picking up a knife spear, she called out to get the other woman’s attention and tossed it her way so she’d have a weapon of some kind, and then turned to deal with the other ghost person.

Caroline downed it with two shots to the chest and turned to see Christine dropping the other with the spear, where she started hacking at the limbs. Caroline’s stomach turned. Could she do it? It was almost too much like Benny, but if she didn’t, it’d get back up and kill her, right?

Picking up another knife spear, she cut away at the arms, pulling them from the shoulders. Her stomach rolled again and Caroline swallowed back the urge to throw up, doing the same with the other arm. She couldn’t bring herself to do the legs though.

“Hey, so, I should probably give you a weapon of some kind. What do you know how to use?” Caroline asked. Christine pantomimed the motions of using several different kinds of weapons, including the motion of using a rifle she was familiar with. If only she had a rifle to give her. The holorifle was out of ammo.

“Wow. You’ve been well trained.” Caroline remarked. Christine shrugged slightly and then waited.

“Well, you know how to use that, right? I don’t have much else to give you.” Caroline pointed at the knife spear in the woman’s hands. Christine nodded.

“Okay. Good. Let’s move on, then.”

Quickly, they made their way through the maze of streets that led back to the fountain, running into one other villa inhabitant on the way. It was easily dealt with, although Caroline still didn’t like the fact that she had to dismember them. It was brutal and made her stomach turn every time.

At the fountain, Dog/God was still waiting. As they approached, God came forward, sneering at Christine.

“What’s this? A little doll. Were you carved by a craftsman or mauled by a drunk who didn’t know his tools?” He asked. Christine narrowed her eyes and dropped into a combat stance.

“I’m not going to hurt you, yet. Scars tell a story. some old, some new and the one on the throat is red and new." Dog said in response and stalked away. Christine looked at Caroline questioningly. Maybe it was a good idea to bring her along. Who knew what would happen if she left the two here alone.

“There’s just one other to find. Christine and I will go look for him and bring him back, and then we can move onto the next part of this nightmare.” Caroline told God, looking at her Pip-Boy for the next marker. It was leading her towards the Residential District. Motioning with her head, Caroline moved away from the fountain. Christine followed, gripping her knife spear tightly.

“ _Picking up signals near your location. Detonators. Watch for traps.”_ Elijah said over the speakers in her Pip-Boy. Caroline closed her eyes and bit back a groan. Instead, she moved carefully forward, her eyes moving over the terrain.

The mines Caroline could deal with. But as she moved through the Residential District, she noticed this red fog hovering around. It looked similar to the gas that had pumped through the vents back in the bunker and she was hesitant to go through it, but the marker continued to lead her forward.

Taking a deep breath, Caroline stepped into the cloud. Without even breathing it, she felt a constricting motion in her throat and dizziness washed over her. She stumbled backwards into the fresh air, landing on her backside. Christine touched her throat and looked over at the cloud.

“Yeah, it’s poison. Great. There’s no other way around. I’ve got some stimpacks, we’ll just have to rush through it, I think.” Caroline said. Christine shifted her grip on the knife spear and nodded. They both bolted through the cloud, which was thankfully small, but they gasped at the end when they found the clean air again. Caroline passed over a stimpack and injected one of her own. That was going to be a problem.

They both went up a set of stairs and into a building. Caroline froze in the doorway when she heard the sound of music coming from somewhere, and looked around for the radio. Her collar wasn’t beeping, so that was a good sign.

“ _You’d think it was spring, the way tourists keep rolling in.”_ An unknown voice said over her Pip-Boy. Was this Dean Domino? Caroline hoped so. She carefully went up another set of stairs and found someone sitting in a chair in front of a hole in the wall, a radio beside him. Her collar continued to stay silent, so she holstered her weapon and stepped forward.

“Um...hello?” Caroline said, hoping not to startle whoever it was.

“Have a seat, and then we’ll talk.” The man turned his head slightly, and Caroline saw that it was a ghoul. She looked back at Christine, who shrugged and Caroline moved around the chairs and sat down in one. She looked out the hole in the wall and the casino was in the distance, surrounded by a red fog.

“The Sierra Madre. Mmm, beauty, isn’t she? She the one who invited you here? Or maybe you didn’t catch her voice on the radio. You just woke up, confused, like some of the others.” He paused, glanced over at her. “Hmm. At least you’re still breathing. By the way, don’t make any sudden motions, no matter how uncomfortable that chair gets. The cushion is just for show.”

Caroline froze, hands resting on her legs. She turned to look at the ghoul with a scowl.

“Better be a shaped charge or you’re going to kill both of us.” Caroline replied, in what she hoped was the same tone he had when mentioning the explosives.

“Sounds like you’ve done some blue collar construction work in your life, your Ma must be so proud. Still...Get up without my permission, and I’ll blast your ass so far through your head it’ll turn the moon cherry pie red. Let’s keep this sweet and polite, and end this conversation with no misunderstandings, hmm?” The ghoul said happily. Caroline curled her fingers into her thighs.

“I’ll save my questions for the end. Please, do go on.” She said, trying to keep her voice neutral. She failed, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“And that’s what I’ve missed - a rapt audience. Just because I’m in entertainment doesn’t mean I’m a moron. I heard my necktie beeping, I know I’m a part of this somehow. I want out of this contract. And if you put me in it, I'm not going to be too happy. So whatever's going on here, if you're part of all this? You're taking orders from me.” The ghoul said, his voice changing from light and pleased to cold as he talked.

Caroline wasn’t pleased that she had to take orders from two people now, but she wanted to get out of this alive, somehow. So she’d play along for now. She’d do just about anything to get out of here alive.

“I’ll cooperate. What do you want?”

“Good, good - then we're in business. I may be a betting man, but I like it when the odds are in our favor.If you're here with who I think, then I'd rather have you on my side than his. An... ace in the hole. You want to live, I want what’s in the Madre. Simple.” The ghoul leaned back in his chair with a pleased smile on his lips. His eyes were covered with sunglasses, but Caroline was willing to bet that they were pleased too.

“Sure. I’m in. Meet me at the fountain?” Caroline agreed, hoping he’d just let her out of this chair. She couldn’t feel the explosives she was sitting on  but it didn’t make her any less uncomfortable with it. 

“Wait...wait, I’m not walking out there on my own. I know what's out there. It's why I've planted a mine field, shotguns, and explosives all the way on the road to my little boudoir here. So we go together, or we're not going at all. I'll split my hand in Blackjack when the time's right, I'm not splitting up in this town, trust me.” The ghoul said and Caroline frowned. She hadn’t run into anything but a few mine on her way here.

“Well, if I can get here, others will be, soon enough. Fountain's the safest place.” She growled, waiting to get up when he cleared the explosives she was sitting on.

“That's... a good point. All right, let me grab some smokes, and I'll meet you at the Fountain.” The ghoul stood and walked away without any other words, leaving Caroline seated in the chair. She turned and stared over at Christine. Now what?

Christine came over and knelt down to examine the chair, looking around it. She shrugged and then looked up at Caroline and shook her head

“What? Can I get up? Are there explosives?” Caroline asked. Christine shook her head again, motioning for Caroline to stand. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Caroline stood. And nothing happened.

“That son of a bitch. C’mon, let’s go. If we wouldn’t go out with him, I’d put a bullet in his skull for that.” Caroline growled, heading out the same way they came in. Down the stairs and rushing through the poison cloud towards the exit.

It was closer to being over, she had to tell herself. First step done. Next step, go to the fountain and receive more instructions. She hadn’t died yet. If she just did as she was asked, she might actually make it through this.

 


	20. Dead Money Interlude I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in the Mojave, the search for Caroline isn't going well.

“Mickey, we’ve been walking all night. We need to stop and rest.” Arcade said from somewhere behind him. Mickey pretended to not hear him and kept walking.

The sun was just over the horizon and they were almost to the 188 Trading Post. Mickey was checking everywhere someone might have seen Caroline, but so far he wasn't having much luck. He really didn’t know where she could have gone. Or if she even made it anywhere. Vulpes could have had someone waiting to snatch her up as soon as she was alone.

“Mickey!” Arcade called, wrapping a hand around Mickey’s upper arm to stop him. Mickey slid to a halt and wrenched his arm away from Arcade.

“We can stop and rest for a bit, eat and drink up at the 188. But we need the rest before we collapse.” Veronica spoke up, looking exhausted. Boone didn’t say anything but Mickey didn’t expect him too. He didn’t look any less tired than he usually did behind the sunglasses that he wore.

“Fine.” Mickey growled and turned to continue on. Arcade sighed and followed.

“I know you want to find her. We all do. But you have limits. We all have limits, and none of us know where she went to begin with. We’ll stop, rest a bit and think about it. Come up with a plan.” Arcade told him and Mickey looked back at the doctor and nodded.

“You’re right. I just need to….she’s...God, what the hell happened in there?” Mickey groaned, running his hands through his hair and tugging at the almost too long strands.

“We’ll ask when we find her. Until then, stop imagining all the horrible things I know you’re imagining. It probably isn’t even that bad. She just got spooked after killing someone. And you know, I don’t blame her. “ Arcade said and Mickey stared over at him.

“She’s a kid. She’s killed plenty with that gun and rifle of hers, but up close is a different story.” Arcade shrugged at the look and kept walking.

“Even if the scumbag deserved it.” Veronica said from behind them.

“Should’ve handled it myself.” Mickey muttered with a scowl.

“No. She did what she needed to do.” Boone said, surprising them all. He hadn’t said very many words during this trip, except to warn them all of dangers ahead. Mickey appreciated his great eyesight. If he spotted the threat before it got close, it was quickly taken care of. But it wasn’t up to the sniper to decide what was best for his kid sister.

But Mickey had always had a hard time telling her no when she really wanted something.

“It’s a sad fact of life that wasteland justice involves killing people.” Arcade sighed, looking a little dismayed. Mickey reached over and found the doctor’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Caroline wants to change it. We’ll find her, and then we’ll help. If we can set things up properly, we’d have a jail where we don’t give prisoners explosives.” Veronica said helpfully, and then waved as one of the traders at the 188 called out to her. Obviously she recognized the robe.

“Hey, Michelle! How’s business?” Veronica hurried forward to speak to the woman, and the others found themselves sitting at a table. Well, Mickey sat for a few minutes, but was still restless.

“It’s just fine! What brings you up here again?” Michelle replied, moving behind their counter as if Veronica wanted to do business. Mickey figured that a little food and water wouldn’t hurt them.

“I’m actually with those guys, and we’re looking for someone. About my height. Um, she’s really tan, has brown hair. Probably not very well armed or armored.”Veronica tried her best to describe Caroline.

“She’s got a scar on her temple, too.” Arcade reminded her and Veronica nodded.

“Yeah, that too. Her name’s Caroline.”

“I haven’t seen anyone come through since I’ve been up. Doesn’t mean Dad didn’t, but he usually tells me these things. You could ask the others though.” Michelle said apologetically and Veronica sighed. 

“Of course. Thanks, Michelle.” Veronica responded and turned to the others with a frown. Mickey was pacing, Boone was drinking from a bottle of water and Arcade was looking around, tapping his fingers on the table. Suddenly he stood.

“I’ll be right back.” Arcade said as he walked away, and Mickey stopped his pacing to watch the doctor approach another man who was standing around the area. Mickey remembered him from the last time they had come through the area, but Arcade hadn’t stopped to chat that time.

There was a handshake, and then a short conversation, with Arcade gesturing with his hands, presumably describing Caroline as Veronica had. The other man nodded, pointed off down the road, and at another few words from Arcade, the other man checked his watch and shrugged. Arcade smiled at the man, shook his hand again, and then made his way back over to the group.

“Old friend of yours?” Mickey asked, resisting the urge to ask if it was a boyfriend. No reason to be rude, Mickey was just in a sour mood.

“He’s one of the Followers. I didn’t realize he was around, and he typically is awake late at night, so I thought I’d ask him. He saw someone who looked a little like Caroline come through here a few hours back. Said she was moving quickly, but he didn’t notice anyone following her.” Arcade replied, settling back down.

“She might be heading to Novac. She’s got a room there.” Veronica said and Boone shook his head.

“She won’t stay long. Couple of the people in town think she’s responsible for the death of the owner of the motel.” Mickey turned to the sniper, arching an eyebrow. He hadn’t been aware of that. He did remember the man who gave him the key for a room hadn’t seemed to know what he was doing. He had taken over for the owner when she died. Or disappeared. Or whatever happened.

“Is she?” Arcade asked, his eyes wide behind his glasses. Boone’s expression didn’t change, and Mickey assumed he was staring back from behind his own tinted glasses.

“No.”

“Well, that’s a load off. Eat, drink, whatever you need to do. We’re gonna move out in thirty.” Mickey said, leaving the table to go wander around. His skin was crawling when he stood still.

He wandered around the Trading Post, trying to fight his impatience. He chewed on a few tobacco leaves as he did so, hoping it’d fend off the exhaustion he was starting to feel creep up on him. He could make it to Novac at least. There, they’d all have to rest. It wasn’t ideal, but hopefully Caroline could stay out of trouble long enough for him to find her.

Dad had to be so pissed off at him. It was his job to look after her. Granted, being kidnapped by the Legion kind of made that difficult, but he didn’t have any reason not to now.

Mickey leaned against the wall underneath the overpass that held the Trading Post, scrubbing at his face with his hands. There was a great many things his father would be pissed off about, if he was still alive to tell about it. Although if he was still alive, none of this would have happened.

More guilt settled on Mickey’s shoulders. He looked up at the sound of boots crunching on the ground underneath him and found Arcade approaching him, a bottle of water and a small bag in his hands.

“Here. You need to eat. And drink this.” Arcade handed over the items, and inside the bag was a bit of trail mix and some brahmin jerky.

“Thanks.” Mickey muttered, taking a strip of the jerky and biting into it. Arcade settled himself against the wall next to him.

“We’ll find her.” Arcade said quietly as Mickey ate. Mickey refused to accept any other outcome of this situation.

* * *

 No sign of her in Novac. She had to have skirted around the town in the early morning hours, out of the sightline of the sniper in the dinosaur mouth.

“We can check at Camp Forlorn Hope after we rest.” Boone said as they settled in. They were all crowded into a motel room, stripping out of dusty clothing to get some sleep. Arcade and Mickey agreed to share the bed, leaving Veronica the sofa and Boone the soft looking chair in the corner. It seemed a little unfair, but the sniper had insisted he’d slept in worse.

Mickey had too. Using his pack as a lumpy, hard pillow to keep his head off the ground, he’d slept underneath the stars in the middle of the desert.

“There’s got to be a way I could track her Pip-Boy somehow. Build some kind of scanner to detect it, or to send her a signal or something. It picks up radio just fine…” Veronica was muttering to herself as she came out of the bathroom wearing a set of cotton pants and a tank top that had both seen better days.

“If we strike out at Forlorn Hope, we should return back to Freeside. There might be some Followers equipment we could borrow to cobble something together.” Arcade replied, tugging off his coat and setting it aside. Mickey didn’t have much to take off besides his boots, and he set those nearby in case he had to get up and move early.

He didn’t like the idea that they’d leave Caroline alone out in the desert by herself any longer than they already had to go back and work on this project.

“I’d need a really big antenna and access to the highest point in the area. I wish I could get up to the penthouse level of the 38. That’d work perfectly.” Veronica sighed and settled herself onto the sofa. She yawned and curled up on herself.

Everyone managed to get some sleep, even Mickey, curling around Arcade as he did so. The doctor didn’t protest, instead grabbing the hand that was resting on his hip and pulling it up to his chest. It was reassuring, somehow. Arcade was there to help him with this. And he had only known the man for a short time.

* * *

 “Our spotters reported seeing someone who fit her description. The First Recon guys would know more, they were on duty at the time.” The man in charge of the camp, Major Polati, told Mickey when they arrived. It was late and Mickey was surprised the man was even up at all, but with their proximity to the Legion, he imagined it would be hard to get much rest. Mickey felt anxious about it.

“Thanks. I’ll get out of your way.” Mickey left the command tent and found Arcade waiting for him. Boone and Veronica were off talking to other soldiers.

“Anything?” Arcade asked, pulling his hands from his pockets and following Mickey towards the other two.

“The Major said the spotters saw her. C’mon, lets see what they have to say.”

First Recon was more helpful than anything else had been, even though it wasn’t much.

“We did see her, but lost track of her in the hills. There weren’t any Legion patrols that we saw, so I don’t think they’ve taken her either.” One of the snipers, a man wearing a Ranger’s hat instead of a beret, informed Mickey when he asked. He introduced himself as Corporal Sterling.

“We’ll k-keep an eye out for her when we can. If she comes b-back through this way, we’ll s-stop her, let her know you’re looking for her.” One of the other snipers continued, working the words out despite the stutter he obviously had. This one hadn’t introduced himself, not that Mickey particularly cared.

“Thanks. She’s just a kid, you know?” Arcade said warmly and the sniper with the glasses shrugged.

“Bein’ a k-kid doesn’t mean anything t-t-these days.” He replied and Sterling reached over and nudged his fellow sniper’s shoulder gently.

“Of course not. Being a woman though, with the way the Legionaries treat them, is a reason to look out for her. She did us a favor with those Fiends up in New Vegas. We’ll do one for her.” Sterling said and Mickey looked around for the other two he had been traveling with. Time to get out of here.

“Thanks a lot, gents. See you around.” Mickey moved towards Boone and Veronica. Boone was talking with another sniper, but Veronica was looking off into the distance. The sun was coming up. If they pushed themselves hard, they’d make it to the 188 by nightfall.

Mickey didn’t want to go, but without finding some way of tracking Caroline, they were just guessing. The weight of the Legion medallion was heavy in his pocket, but Mickey knew Caroline would hold her own in a fight if she had to. According to Vulpes (but Mickey wasn’t inclined to believe him for a second anyways) Caroline was safe from Legion Assassins for now.

It was the rest of the Mojave he should be worried about.

 


End file.
